


Animal Instincts

by BlueRunawayMoon



Series: Awakening [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Ascension, Bonding, Confused/horny!Stiles, Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Infection, Irish folk lore, Knotting, M/M, Magic, Masterbation, Mating Rituals, Monsters, Rimming, Rituals, Rutting, Secret Identity, Slaugh, Slavic mythology, Stiles borrows werewolf stregnth, Stiles is kinky, Supernatural Elements, Torture, Why do these lights keep flashing/busting around me, Wolfed Out Sex, but you won't fully find out until part 2, cause I'm evil, possesive!derek, post SE4, shared emotions, stiles is more than he seems, three parts of a whole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 09:22:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 55
Words: 261,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3845638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueRunawayMoon/pseuds/BlueRunawayMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things are not going well for Stiles. Not only is he drifting from the pack, but he cant sleep and hardly eats, and its never been more clear to him that being a human leaves him at a major disadvantage. As if things weren't bad enough, he and Malia are on the rocks, and then there is the fact that Derek wants to kill him, of course. Derek, who he dreams about every night. Derek, who is losing control of his inner wolf, when said wolf seems to want Stiles dead.</p>
<p>But because Stiles is the universe's bitch, a new, terrifying and seemingly unbeatable monster arrives in Beacon Hills, and the pack have no idea how to stop it. When people start going crazy and attacking others, the Pack learn the creature is involved somehow. Now, with Stiles life in jeopardy, they must find a way to cure him before its too late.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Slow burn with lots of sexual tension and build up.</p>
<p>*There is a Stiles/Original Character pair up, but end game is Sterek. Pinky promise :) *</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*i do not own teen wolf or its characters. :( boo *</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Changes

_Stiles stood glued to the spot, shock and denial holding his legs still, though his heart thundered in his chest. Derek...how could this have happened? The guy was supposed to be invincible. He was supposed to be all powerful . He certainly did not give up or in. He was DEREK. So...how had it come to this? Stiles' eyes locked onto the sight of Derek's bloodied torso and a strangled whimper escaped his throat. Braeden kneeled over him, applying pressure to the wound and urging him to be still, while Derek stared up over her shoulder at the night sky with a look of....desperation....that Stiles NEVER wanted to see on the man's face. As if reading his thoughts Derek's lips drew tight, his jaw clenched, and those piercing green eyes that Stiles knew could appear blue at any second turned and locked onto Stiles._

 

_"How bad is it?" Peter Hale, who had been standing somewhere behind Stiles asks softly, slowly moving forward._

 

_Derek cringes as he speaks. "I'm fine-I'm fine....just get to Scott. Just find him. I'll be right behind you. Go." He said, coughing slightly, gripping his bleeding side. When no one made a move, those eyes narrowed with intensity. "Go!!"_

 

_Peter gave a sigh and shook his head before turning and beginning to run towards the rundown temple where Scott was. Stiles was aware of Malia and Liam breaking away from the scene as well, but he stood shocked in place, unable to follow._

 

_"Hey...hey..." Derek's eyes locked on his then, and Stiles felt something inside of him shift at the contact. "...save him." He said, referring to Scott._

 

_Stiles drew in a soft, unsteady breathe and finally turned, beginning to run after Peter, Malia and Liam. Before he entered the temple though, he haltered, turning yet again to look upon Derek, and a horrifying voice in the back of his head whispered "This could be the last time...." Swallowing hard he passed through the entrance way._

 

 

 

 

"Stilinski!!!!!"

 

Stiles jerked up in confusion, a bit of drool on the side of his mouth. He muttered a few incoherent words, looking around and finding himself not in La Iglesia , but rather his Economics class. Not only that, but everyone was staring at him and laughing behind their hands, while a VERY angry Coach Finstock was leaned over him. His hands on Stiles' desk and their faces almost touching. 

 

"Ohh would you look at that. Sleeping Beauty's finally awake."

 

Stiles gave an inward groan and glanced sideways to Scott, who was trying his best not to laugh. And failing miserably. "Uh...yeah sorry Coach." Stiles muttered. Clearing his throat and drawing straight. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

 

Coach gave a fake sympathetic pout, tilting his head to the side. "Awww. Well then by all means," Coach stepped back and motioned to the desk. "Continue your slumber! I wouldn't even think of keeping you away from your Prince Charming in Dreamland. What was his name again? Derek?"

 

Stiles mouth dropped open as more people began to openly chuckle. "Uh..I....huh?" For the love of ALL that was holy say he hadn't said Derek's name outloud!!!!  Groaning again Stiles ran his hand through the back of his hair, feeling his face go blood shot. "I'm sorry, Coach. I'll stay awake." He mumbled apologetically.

 

"Good!" Coach yelled in that random, annoying way of his, glaring down at Stiles. "Next time it's detention Stilinski!"

 

As he returned to the front of the room Stiles turned a panicked look to Scott, who was grinning like an idiot. "Tell me I didn't...."

 

"Shout out Derek's name? Yeah. You totally did." Scott whispered, shaking his head. "What were you dreaming of?"

 

Stiles shut his eyes with a sigh, knowing that he wouldn't be living this down any time soon. "Just a nightmare." He whispered back, licking dry lips and staring up at Coach as he taught, thought he didn't hear a single word the man said. All he could think about was that night a few weeks ago. They had had so many close encounters with death. And yet somehow, the one with Derek would not leave his mind.

 

It was more than a little unnerving.

 

*******************************************************

 

 

 

 

Derek paced the floors of his loft a long moment, annoyance plain in his features. Every few seconds he cast his green/blue eyes down to his phone lying on a coffee table in front of his futon, and then jerked his head away with a hiss of annoyance. After a moment longer he finally released a growl of irritation and jerked his phone up, going to his text messages and checking the time once again of the last text he had received from Scott. An hour ago. So why wasn't he here yet??? Feeling like a fool Derek fell back against his futon, rubbing his brows with a sigh. Something was wrong with him. Something off. His heart wouldn't stop racing. His senses... _screamed_. Everything felt so heightened and his skin crawled! The urge to shed his skin and just....run...was so intense and uncontrollable. Just earlier today he had been out in public and would have sworn that the change almost hit him, unbidden. What was going on with him?

 

He knew that sooner or later he would have to contact Deaton, but first he needed to see if Scott was going through the same thing, thinking that maybe something had happened in Mexico that they hadn't been aware of.  Derek had felt similar, though not as strong sensations before, in the past, when something bad was going to happen. It was like his inner wolf could sense it somehow. After the first few days of coming back from Mexico, Derek had thought that it was just the shock of everything still wearing on him. Keeping him so on edge. But it had yet to fade and Derek felt that he was only getting worse as the days passed. Truth be told....if Peter were here he would have asked his uncle about what could possibly be happening. But after it had been revealed that Peter had been behind so much of their misfortune, and had been plotting to kill Scott all along, the man had been vanished (again) after Scott had kicked his ass. Honestly, Derek didn't quite know how to feel about that. It wasn't like he and his Uncle had a great relationship. It was just he was family...and Derek was running pretty short on that these days. Suddenly his phone vibrated in his hand, and Derek jerked it up to see a new message from Scott.

 

***Hey I'm coming up.***

 

Derek pushed off of the futon and moved to his door, pulling it open and sticking his head out, hearing Scott coming up the stairs. Releasing a sigh he leaned back against his door frame. "Took you long enough!" He said, not bothering to raise his voice.

 

"Yeah sorry!" Scott became visible as he climbed. "Coach made Stiles stay behind so he could yell at him." 

 

Stiles? Derek rolled his eyes when Stiles popped around a corner with an apologetic grin, waving his hand. "Yo. How's it going Derek?"

 

"Should have known you were the reason." Derek muttered, moving back so Scott, who was grinning, could enter.

 

"Hey. I don't appreciate that, you know." Stiles placed a hand to his heart in mock hurt as he stood there in the hall.

 

Derek watched him a moment with an arched brow. "Well?!"

 

Jumping slightly Stiles nodded and began to rush inside, clearing his throat and avoiding Derek's eyes, chewing on his bottom lip. Derek frowned and shook his head at him. Why the hell was he always so....un-normal? Derek made to smack him in the back of his head, but as he lifted his hand a scent rushed to meet his nose and he paused, sucking in a deep inhale. His eyes lowered and his head dropped in a predatory way, his eyes following the back of Stiles' head as he passed to stand beside Scott. 

 

What the....why the hell did Stiles smell so damned good?! "What the hell do you have on?" He bit out, a little more harshly than he had intended.

 

Stiles and Scott both looked at each other in confusion, and when Derek's gaze narrowed on Stiles the boy shook his head jerkily and pointed to himself. "You talking to me?"

 

"Yes, you!"

 

Stiles mouth opened. "Uh...uh...." He looked down at his clothes. A plain white tee under a flannel shirt and some blue jeans. "I mean I know I'm not winning any awards for best dressed here but it's not THAT bad."

 

"No, you  _idiot._ You're wearing something. Cologne. That shit in a spray can. Whatever it is awkward teenagers bathe themselves in now days."

 

Scott snorted beside him and Stiles released a huff of indignation. "Excuse me,  _Sourwolf_ , but I'm not wearing anything. But thanks for letting me know I stink!" Throwing up his hands as if to say 'can you believe this guy?!' Stiles turned and plopped down on the futon, crossing his legs at the ankles on the coffee table. At Derek's glare he immediately gave a nervous laugh and pulled them down though. 

 

"Is everything okay? You look a little...off." Scott frowned at him and Derek dragged his gaze from Stiles.

 

He licked his lips again and nodded. "Yeah. I need to ask you something. Since we've gotten back from Mexico have you felt anything...off?"

 

Scott frowned. "What do you mean off?"

 

"Like...are your sense's on alert? Do you keep feeling like you're going to change at any minute?"

 

"You mean like when I first got turned? No. Why, do you?"

 

Derek swung away with a sigh of annoyance. "Yeah. And I don't know what's going on. It's like I don't have control."

 

"Have you talked about it with Deaton?" Scott asked, his expression full of worry.

 

"No. I was wanting to see if you were going through something similar first."

 

"No?" Stiles rang in sarcastically. "So..you're basically saying that you don't have control right now? Which basically means we could have a rabid Derek Hale on the loose?" He paused for effect before scoffing. "Yeah. Can we get that taken care of ASAP??"

 

"Do you really think being a smart ass is after I just told you I'm not in control is very wise?" Derek hissed.

 

Stiles was silent a moment, his mouth gaping open. Then he gave a swift nod. "Okay. I'm going to shut up now."

 

Derek twisted his lip in a wiry grin before turning back to Scott. "I guess I'll have to go to Deaton then."

 

"Yeah. We'll go with you." 

 

"Hey...where is Braeden?" Stiles wondered aloud, looking around the loft. "I haven't seen her since Mexico."

 

Derek looked at Stiles a moment before dropping his gaze. "She left. Few weeks ago. Anyway, we need to get going."

 

Stiles and Scott shared a look before heading to the door. Derek held it open for them so he could lock up after, and clenched his teeth together as Stiles passed him once again and he got a deep inhale of his scent, and just as before the animal deep within him shifted, dug it's claws in, and reached closer towards surface.

 

Yeah. He had to get to Deaton. And fast. 


	2. That Which is Basic and Raw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deaton fills Derek in on a bit of information that doesn't exactly make him feel better. Stiles and Malia have a fight much to Scott & Kira's enjoyment.

Deaton looked up with a frown at the loud, almost thundering banging on the back door of the clinic. Looking at the clock hanging on the wall he saw that it was just past six. The clinic had closed minutes ago and all of his customers had already gone. Years of bad experiences made his body draw tense and he eyed the door with a narrowed frown.

 

"Deaton!! Open up!!" At the familiar, urgent call he tilted his head slightly before moving to open the door. Derek stood there with a look of pure annoyance on his face, Scott and a sheepish looking Stiles behind him, and Deaton could tell by the teenagers 'I didn't do anything' face that he had, in fact, done something (yet again) to annoy the Hale wolf. Which was pretty normal. 

 

"Scott. You could have just used the front door." Deaton said, stepping aside, a frown still in place.

 

"Yeah, sorry. I kind of left the key over at Kira's." Scott said apologetically as they walked through. Deaton didn't ask any questions. They  _were_ teenagers after all. 

 

"So to what do I owe the pleasure?"

 

Derek was in front of him instantly, and Deaton drew back slightly with arched brows at the wolf's slightly frantic expression. "Something's happening to me and I was hoping you would know."

 

Deaton frowned up at him before motioning to a seat, which Derek fell into with a sigh. Scott and Stiles moved to join him, watching the wolf carefully. Clearly they weren't used to seeing Derek so worked up.

 

"Tell me."

 

Derek ground his teeth in silence a moment, hid palms beating idly on the ends of the arms of the chair. After a moment he turned a narrowed glare to Stiles, who was sitting a bit to his side and had leaned towards him, the boys elbows on his knee's. " _Would you back up."_ Derek growled out and Stiles jumped back, throwing his hands up in an nonthreatening way.  _  
_

 

"Whoa, whoa buddy. Okay. Personal space...I get it." Stiles gave a comical 'dude wtf' look to Scott who just shrugged a single shoulder with arched brows.

 

"Uh...Derek is having a little trouble with control lately." Scott drew out obviously.

 

"Yes. I can certainly see that." Deaton looked at Derek a moment in thought before leaning back against his desk. "Tell me. Aside from the obvious increased aggression. Are you having problems reigning in the wolf? Shifting without meaning to?"

 

Derek's eyes narrowed at that. "You know what's happening to me." He said, not really asking a question.

 

"I think I may....how are your senses?"

 

"Everything's.... _intense_." Derek whispered the last part, his chest rising in a deep inhale. 

 

"Your mother felt the same way after she first transformed into a true wolf. "

 

Derek looked up at him in surprise, quiet a moment. "She told you this? She went through something similar?"

 

Deaton nodded. "Yes. And she came to me as well for answers."

 

"Well? What did you tell her? What's happening to me?"

 

"Change." Deaton said simply. "When you transformed, it was into something completely new. Different. While your old form was still based on your wolf, this new one?" Deaton shook his head. "You  _are_ the wolf now, Derek. It's....a powerful transformation. You can't expect to walk away from something like that and not experience certain...side effects."

 

Derek shook his head with a scowl. "What does that even mean?"

 

"Do you remember the first time you ever turned into a wolf?"

 

Derek let out a huff of irritation at the way Deaton could walk a hell of a circle around a real answer. "It was...intense afterwards. Everything felt so...raw and unfamiliar. It's similar to what I'm feeling now, only this is...more."

 

Deaton nodded."Which is to be expected. But you got through it before, didn't you?"

 

Derek nodded in silence. 

 

"And you'll do it again." Deaton smiled gently. "Just with time. And control."

 

"So...it's like he's a new wolf all over again?" Stiles chirped up. "Wow. That's got to be annoying."

 

Derek cut a glare at him before sitting an elbow on the arm rest and placing his hand over his mouth, looking sideways. Silent.

 

"Is there...something else that's happening?"

 

Derek cocked a brow and looked up at Deaton, who was watching him with too wise eyes. He cleared his throat and shook his head. "No. I guess I'll just have to wait it out. Like before."

 

Scott slapped a hand on his back, grinning in that crooked way of his. "Well, Derek. Can't say I envy you. I remember how much it sucked after I had first changed." He wagged his brows and clicked his tongue. "Well. Good luck with that."

 

Stiles stood, holding up his hands. "Can I just say that I don't feel very safe knowing that there is a possibly out of control Derek Hale roaming the streets?"

 

"Especially seeing as you seem to annoy me most." Derek gave a sloppy grin.

 

"See!" Stiles said, pointing to him with wide eyes. "I'm telling you guys, if I go missing you know where to look."

 

"Hey. I'm serious though. " Scott pulled him out of the eye battle he and Stiles were currently having. "If you need anything, just call."

 

Derek gave a slight nod, trying to look not too bothered, though inside his mind was in chaos. And from all this confusion, one thing was startling clear to him.

 

His inner wolf was reacting, in some way or another, to Stiles.

 

And that annoyed the hell out of him. 

 

***************************************************************************************************

 

"Scott!!!" Kira called happily, running from where she had been standing by her car to basically tackle Scott in a hug.

 

Stiles swerved out of the way so as not to get trampled on, rolling his eyes. He spotted Malia approaching him then and grinned. "Hey there." Malia gave an answering grin and came to stand in front of him. "Oh, hey. Do I stink?"

 

All three gave him an arched stare.

 

"No more than usual." Malia said with a shrug. "Why?"

 

Stiles stared dead pan at her a moment before rolling his eyes and heading towards the diner they had all agreed to meet at. "Uh I dunno. Just something Derek said."

 

"Derek hates you." Malia retorted back, all matter-of-fact like. 

 

Behind him Scott was unable to hold back his snort.

 

"Hey! I'm hurt. He doesn't  _hate_ me. I have you know, Derek and I have grow quite close. Dare I say actually bonded?"

 

"It's a total bromance." Kira said from under Scott's arm, a huge grin in place.

 

Stiles glared back at her. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

 

"It is true that your heart rate tends to rise when you're around him." Malia said as she walked through the dinner and they followed.

 

Stiles struggled a moment with unintelligent choking sounds. "What?!" He was finally able to shout out.

 

Malia frowned over her shoulder at him with a shrug. "It's not a big deal."

 

"If there is  _any_ heart rate changes going it, it's just because I'm terrified, okay! The guy's been known to be a bit abusive before."

 

Malia sat at a table, her head cocked to the side and her lips pursed in thought. "I can tell fear heart rate changes. Smell it too. This is more of a nervous...anxious thing."

 

Stiles gaped at her a moment before jerking his head to Scott. "Come on man, back me up here!"

 

Scott cringed, watching him a moment before shrugging. "Well...."

 

Stiles released a fast outwards gasp. "Okay. Alright, I get it. Apparently I have no friends."

 

Scott grinned. "Come on man. It's not that big of a deal. Let's just get some food." He turned to a waitress as she approached and they all ordered.

 

As they sat there waiting for their food, Stiles was vaguely aware of Scott and Kira being grossly lovey-dovey like always, and Malia sitting at his side playing with her cell phone. She was still pretty new to the things and could seriously spend a whole day playing on them. Stiles didn't mind actually. Found it kind of cute. And let's be honest...Malia could be pretty...Malia at times, and while Stiles was all for what they had going on, sometimes he needed a break from the weirdness.

 

Ha. He'd never have thought  _he_ would be the one calling someone else weird. He was as abnormal as they came. 

 

"....Stiles....Stiles!!"

 

Stiles jerked out of his thoughts to find Malia looking at him with a slightly annoyed expression. "Oh. Uh, I'm sorry were you saying something."

 

Malia frowned at him. "Yeah. I was asking you if you were going to the full moon party Lydia is throwing in a few days."

 

Stiles nodded. "Oh yeah. That. I dunno. Do you think it's a good idea right now to be having a party?"

 

"Dude. It's the best idea!" Kira said. "We all just almost died." She snorted. "Is there a better time to throw a kegger?"

 

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Well gee I guess I see your point." He turned a grin to Malia. "If you are going then I am going too."

 

Malia grinned, apparently satisfied with that answer.  A moment later their food returned and they all started digging in.

 

Stiles lifted a fry to his mouth and started to nibble, stifling a yawn. He hadn't been getting much sleep lately. With the nightmares and stuff. It was like he had them every night now. And though he may say 'them', it was actually just the same dream. Over and over again. Where Derek dies. For good. That he does not transform into the wolf and is just....gone. Stiles' gut clenches at the thought and he swallows hard. Why the hell does he keep having the dream? And why does it bother him so much? Well, it wasn't like he  _wouldn't_ be bothered if Derek died. The guy was his friend. But this....this bothered him  _bad_. It was to the point sometimes that he almost went into panic attack mode. Which would really suck. 

 

"Stiles!!"

 

Stiles jumped, dropping his fry and looking up. Scott and Kira were frowning at him and Malia was looking super annoyed. Crap. "Oh." He sighed. "I'm sorry, Malia. I've got a lot on my mind right now."

 

Malia stared a him a moment sternly. "Are you thinking about that stuff I found on your computer last night."

 

Stiles almost choked. "What?! No!"

 

Scott and Kira were watching, appearing highly amused and interested.

 

"Because I told you last night that was just gross. And I'm still not going to do it."

 

"Oh my God! Malia! PLEASE just stop talking!!" He grabbed her glass of coke and brought the straw to her lips. "Here! Have something to drink!"

 

Across from him Scott was looking away, holding his hand over his laughing face.

 

Stiles glared at him before laying his head on the table. Why did his life have to suck so much???

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments & kudos make this person super happy!! 
> 
> For realz guys. lemme know what you think. It keeps me going :)
> 
> Like the Energizer Bunny.
> 
> Boo....yah.....


	3. Awkward Situations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek catches Stiles dreaming about him. Stiles over hears Malia and Liam growing closer and isn't sure how to feel about it.

"Yeah. Go Scotty Boy! Tap into those wolf powers! Growl at him! Come on!" From across the room where Scott and Liam were presently sparring, Scott turned to Stiles with a stern frown. "Dude....stop."

 

Leaning against the wall Stiles blinked a moment in silence. "I'm just trying to pump you up."

 

"Yeah well.....don't." Scott shook his head with a sigh and returned to Liam.

 

Stiles puffed out his bottom lip and crossed his legs at the ankles, looking around Derek's loft in boredom. Since Mexico the gang spent a lot of their days there, practicing. Getting stronger. Everyone wanted to be ready for...well...whatever. And there was going to be a whatever. Because there always was. Stiles just wished they knew what and when. A few feet away from Scott and Liam, Malia and Kira were sparring as well. Kira doing her fancy twirls and spins through the air that Stiles was secretly super jealous of. Come on! Why was he still the most boring guy out of the group? It was like every time someone new joined the picture, they turned out being not human. And therefore sooo much more interesting. Even Lydia was a frikking  _banshee_. Speaking of Lydia. She was at the station with Parrish. Which is where she spent a lot of her time now. If Stiles didn't know any better he'd swear she had a thing for the cop. Well, maybe not. Maybe she just knew how it felt to not know what was happening in your own body. Not knowing why you were changing.

 

At that thought Stiles glanced down at the ground, his heart falling. He had felt that same way not too long ago. When the nogitsune had taken over. At the memory of that....horrific time in his life, Stiles immediately felt his throat close up and his heart pound. A bead of sweat started a slow decent down his neck and he pushed off of the wall, clearing his throat. That time in his life, was still something he had a hard time getting over. And honestly, he tried his best not to think about it. Licking dry lips he walked into Derek's kitchen to get something to drink. He found Derek leaned over an old beat up table, looking at some papers. As he entered Derek looked up at him and Stiles stood there a moment, unsure if he should continue forward. Derek was....difficult. And the last thing Stiles wanted was to annoy him. As much as everyone else thought otherwise. Especially Derek. And by the way Derek was presently staring at him...yeah.

 

Stiles gave an awkward laugh and pointed behind him, twisting on his feet to return to the others.

 

"Hey." Derek's voice called behind him.

 

Stiles turned with arched brows. "Uh...yeah?"

 

Derek rose slowly from where he had been leaned over, his eyes narrowing him, looking Stiles up and down in a way that made him totally want to twitch. "You alright? You smell...weird."

 

Stiles snorted and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Again with the smelling." He muttered to himself before looking up at Derek. "You going to tell me I smell bad again?"

 

"First off I never said you smelled 'bad'. And I mean you smell....nervous. Not to mention you're heart rate is pretty crazy right now."

 

Stiles stared opened mouthed a moment, before looking away. "Oh. Uh. Yeah. I was just...thinking." He sighed and chose to move into the kitchen towards the fridge. "Can I?" He asked, pointing at it.

 

Derek nodded, his eyes still going over Stiles as he opened the fridge and took out a coke. "You thinking about Mexico?"

 

Stiles paused, the coke bottle hanging in front of his mouth. "Uh. Yeah." He said, choosing the lesser of two evils. Because Jesus, the last thing he wanted to talk about was the time he had fallen into the darkness. And really, he  _had_ been thinking about Mexico often. So it wasn't like he was lying exactly. Or at least he hoped so. He knew Derek would be able to tell anyways. Apparently his mind process was right, though, cause Derek just nodded and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. 

 

"I've been thinking about that a lot too. Obviously."

 

Stiles nodded, serious for once. "Full moons tomorrow. How are you feeling?"

 

Derek drew in a deep breath, before turning piercing eyes up to Stiles, and Stiles felt a chill shoot down his spine. "Hungry."

 

Stiles arched a brow at the unexpected word, and apparently Derek hadn't been aware of his own intention of speech either, before he looked away with a stern frown.

 

"Uh..yeah...well...not sure what to say about that." Stiles said, feeling suddenly uncomfortable and awkward. "Anyways...uh..I'm heading back in there." 

 

He gave a nod to Derek, resisting the urge to press his back against the wall and slide away as he passed. Whoa. What the hell had that been about? Talk about some powerful weirdness.

 

Leaving the kitchen Stiles saw that Scott and Kira were sitting on the futon in a heated makeout session. Rolling his eyes he moved down the hall, searching out Malia. He heard her voice as he approached an open door, and paused, standing outside it to listen.

 

"Its just....he doesn't know how it feels." Malia said softly.

 

"Well he is human. He'll never know. Not really, anyways." Liam answered back.

 

"I'm just like...the full moon's tomorrow, and everything is so... _intense_. And I have all these urges and feelings and he's just fine."

 

"I know." Liam replied after a moment's silence. "But it's okay. We're all going through the same thing....I'm going through the same thing. You're not alone."

 

Stiles turned and headed slowly back down the hall, his eyes on the floor.  _Just another reminder that I'm not like them. Not really._ He thought to himself. Moving into an empty room he slid down a corner, coming to a sit, drawing a knee up and resting an arm on it. He leaned his head against the wall with a sigh. Shutting his eyes. He knew something was up with Malia. Could tell by how hot tempered she had been today. How anxious. Really? Stiles could understand her frustration of not being able to share that with him. If there was one thing he understood, it was feeling alone. And the fact that his girlfriend presently felt like that...well, it didn't make him feel all that great. He thought of her and Liam's conversation. How alike they were. Both still unsure of themselves. No doubt Malia saw something of herself in him. Something to bond with. 

 

Strangely enough Stiles was not jealous. But he should be, shouldn't he?

 

Releasing yet another sigh he quieted his mind a moment, just wanting silence.

 

He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew he was staring over at Derek lying on the dirt ground, his body bloodied and beaten. Blood spilled from his mouth as he spoke. "...You have to save him..."

 

But unlike before, something changed. As he stood there, staring at Derek, Stiles was able to actually say what he had been thinking at the time. "Save him? What about you?!" He shouted in anger, storming forward to stare down at Derek, Braeden no longer kneeled over him. Having vanished. "What about yourself, Derek?! Are you just supposed to die? Am I just supposed to leave you here?" Stiles clenched his teeth, his chest quivering as he fought to control tears that he had not knew would come. "I can't do that."

 

Derek rolled slightly to cough, spitting blood and Stiles rushed to kneel beside him, pushing on his shoulders until he was in sitting position again. 

 

"I'm dying, you idiot!" Derek hissed.

 

"No, no your not." Stiles urged softly, trying to smile reassuringly. "You wanna know why? Cause I'm not gonna let you." He narrowed his eyes in determination. "You hear that Derek? I'm not going to let you!"

 

Suddenly a hand shaking his shoulder pulled Stiles from his dream, and he jerked awake with a gasp, a moment forgetting where he was, reaching around him in confusion.

 

"Stiles! Hey, hey. It's me. Calm down."

 

Looking up he saw Derek before him on one knee, a worried expression on his face. 

 

Stiles blinked up at him a moment before looking at at the man's hand on his shoulder and he cleared his throat with a nod, drawing straight. "Uh. Yeah. My bad I must have been dreaming."

 

Derek nodded after a moment, coming to stand, still looking down at him. "Are you okay? You're...."

 

Stiles realized that he was crying and felt his face heat up immediately. He dragged a hand over his face and stood on slightly shaky feet. "Oh. Yeah. Just...a bad dream."

 

Derek nodded again, standing there a moment before sighing. "Well, I'm gonna...."

 

"Huh? Oh yeah, go on. I'm good. Just....yeah." Stiles laughed awkwardly.

 

Derek gave a small grin and stared at him a moment in an almost pitiful way before turning and heading for the door.

 

"You know I thought you were going to die back there." Stiles' blurted out suddenly, unexpectedly, and felt his face heat up. When Derek turned to stare at him he cleared his throat and glanced away. "I mean at La Iglesia. I thought you were going to die."

 

The room was silent a moment, and Stiles was too nervous to look at whatever expression Derek may have on his face.

 

"I know." Derek finally said. "So did I." 

 

Stiles finally looked up and and found Derek looking back at him with a hard, unblinking stare.

 

"But I didn't."

 

And then he turned and left the room.

 

A moment longer Stiles released a breath of air that he had not knew he had been holding. Feeling suddenly shaky he stumbled back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling in silence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMMENT AND KUDOS BIT----- uh...beautiful peoples O_-
> 
>  
> 
> :'( I loves the touching scene Derek and Stiles shared this chapter.


	4. Savage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the night of the Full Moon party, and Stiles and his friends are getting krunk!! More than a party, it's a celebration of being alive after so many narrow escapes at death recently. Stiles finds that his human blood interfere's yet again with he and Malia's relationship. As if things couldn't be any worse, Derek suddenly shows up and seem's to be pretty dead set on killing Stiles. Just a day in the life....
> 
> oh. And Lydia screams....which is not a good sign
> 
> ....I'm so sorry for saying krunk......

"You know, I'm just not sure if this is such a good idea." Stiles screamed over the blaring roar of the music. "I mean...it's a  _full moon_. Some of you guys still aren't in complete control yet! What if you like...I don't know, wolfed out or something?!"

 

Scott tsked and practically shoved a beer into his hands. "Stiles, it will be fine!! If Liam or Malia can't control themselves, which I doubt will happen, there are other people here who can help!"

 

Stiles arched a brow and looked around the room which was currently packed with almost all of the people from the deadpool list. Well, the survivors at least. "Yeah but...how do we know that  _they_ will stay in control?" After the crazy events Scott had thought it a good idea to stay in touch with everyone. Just in case they may ever need each other in the future. But Stiles knew that Scott had a kind soul, and most likely didn't like the thought of them being out there alone again, some still unknowing of what they even were. He wanted them to feel like they belonged somewhere. And while they may not exactly be a part of the pack, they were still important to Scott. Stiles knew it without a doubt. That was one of the reason's he liked Scott so much. He was....the most honest person Stiles had ever met. 

 

Scott shrugged, waving a hand nonchalantly. "They're fine! Don't worry! Now drink! You've been super weird lately. More so than normal." Scott added with a crooked grin.

 

Stiles rolled his eyes and gave in easily, tipping the beer back and taking a deep swing. He cringed at the yeasty taste that he really didn't like but took another gulp immediately after. Scott was right. He did need a night to just...relax. "Happy?" He said smartly and Scott rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him further into the fray. He nodded awkwardly at a few people as they turned to look at him while dancing. A few even smiled back, and he had to admit....it was a good feeling. Let's be honest, he wasn't the most popular guy around. But luckily these weren't just people. They were people who had shared a similar situation as he and the rest of his friends, and they understood each other on a certain level. And maybe that meant they were a little more open...appreciative. At least Stiles hoped so.

 

"Where's Malia?!" Scott yelled, looking around the room.

 

Stiles knew that though he had asked about Malia, his best friend was most likely looking for Kira. Since their relationship had gotten more serious Scott had been more and more absent in his life. And Stiles got it. Really he did. But it also made him realize that even though he was with Malia, he did not exactly feel the need to be with her 24/7 like Scott did with Kira. And he would have felt bad about that were it not for the fact that Malia was similar. Maybe that's why it worked so well with them. They each understood the other's need for distance and gave it. Then again... _was_ it working out so great? Stiles remembered the conversation he had overheard the other day between Malia and Liam, and could not help but think that maybe he just wasn't able to give her what she really needed. Sighing heavily and rolling his eyes at his own drama Stiles tipped his bottle back and chugged the rest of the beer. Here he was, supposed to be enjoying the night, and he was making himself depressed. Figures.

 

Looking up Stiles saw Lydia and Parris standing close in a corner of the room talking, their heads bent together. "Oh, hey! Lydia! LYDIA!!!"

 

From her spot Lydia turned an annoyed face his way and shook her head as if to say 'what?"

 

"Great party!!!" Stiles said, throwing up both thumbs.

 

Lydia's face dropped to a dead pan stare a moment before she gave a mock grin and held a thumb up herself. Beside her Parrish snorted before clearing his throat and looking away. 

 

Stiles dropped his shoulder's and turned to look at Scott, who was watching him with a pained expression.

 

"..Dude..." Was all he said, and it was all that needed being said, really.

 

Stiles groaned and pushed past Scott. "Going for more beer!!!" He yelled, heading for the kitchen.

 

"Cool. I'm going to look for Kira." Scott yelled back in reply and Stiles threw up his hand over his shoulder and nodded his head to show that he had heard. 

 

Walking into the kitchen Stiles paused when he found Malia and Liam sitting on the table talking. "Oh, hey." He said, announcing his entry.

 

They both turned to look at him with wide eyes, Liam licking his lips and looking away and Malia smiling.

 

"Stiles!" Malia hopped off of the table and ran to give him a hug that was so tight it was nearly crushing.

 

"Whoa whoa....okay. I see the full moon doing that freakishly strong thing for ya...greeaat."

 

Malia smiled apologetically and stepped back, practically bouncing up and down on her toes. "Hey...I missed you. Where have you been?"

 

"Uh, yeah sorry I kind of was asleep when Scott came to get me." He opened the fridge and took out a beer.

 

"You've been sleeping a lot lately." Malia said with a frown.

 

Actually he hadn't. He hadn't been sleeping at all. He was just  _tired_ constantly. And though he had managed to get in about 4 hours today, he was still freaking exhausted. He lay awake at night, just staring at the ceiling, unable to quell the anxious knot in his belly. It was really starting to work on him. To the point where he was thinking about taking a trip to the doctor to maybe get some type of medicine. He had been on some a few years back for his anxiety and most likely needed it again. The knowledge did nothing to help. He hated.... _needing_ things. It made him feel weak. Powerless. And he was already so..... _human._ Stiles laughed inwardly. When had being human become a bad thing? "Well not tonight." Stiles said, grinning down at Malia. "Wide awake. So let's have some fun."

 

Malia seemed pleased with that and laughed, grabbing his hand and beginning to pull him out of the kitchen. "I have the perfect idea." She muttered.

 

Stiles lifted his brows and turned back to Liam with a grin. "Well...I guess we'll be seeing you later, Liam."

 

Liam gave a tight grin, his eyes following them until they had left the kitchen, and then his grin immediately fell. 

 

***************************************

 

"So, have you found out anything from the Bestiary yet?" Lydia asked Parrish with a soft smile, leaning her hip against the wall. "I imagine there can't be too many creatures in there that can walk out of fire without a single burn on them."

 

Parrish laughed, giving her a sideways look and shrugging. "I dunno. There's just so much in the book. So much that I didn't think could ever exist. It's just a little.....overwhelming right now."

 

Lydia nodded in understanding, placing a hand on his arm. "I know what you mean. Don't worry. It will get better. I promise."

 

Parrish looked down at her a moment before clearing his throat and looking around the room. "So...everyone here is..."

 

"Not human. Yup." Lydia clicked her tongue in acknowledgement. "Though to be honest a lot of them aren't even sure what they even are. See? Not so alone." She whispered.

 

"So...I thought that Scott and the other's like him were supposed to turn into savage wolves on the night of a full moon."

 

"Well, that's only in the beginning, before they've learned to control it." Lydia told him. "But yeah....I've heard that in the beginning it is pretty impossible to control what you do. How you feel." She said the last part with a suggestive grin.

 

Parrish's brows rose slightly and he gave a nervous laugh. "Lydia Martin why do I feel like you're flirting with me?"

 

"Most likely because I am." Lydia said grinning wide.

 

Parrish shook his head with a chuckle. "Aren't you still in highschool?"

 

"Oh come on. You're not  _that_ much older than me."

 

Parrish laughed again rubbing his hand over his mouth a moment to hide his slight embarrassment. He opened his mouth to speak again but frowned when he noticed that Lydia's grin had fallen. Her eyes were growing wide, and began to dart around as if visions were playing across her mind. Her breathing began to quicken to shallow, gasped inhales. "Lydia? Hey are you alright?"

 

Lydia's mouth opened slightly and she finally looked up at him, here eyes coming back to focus. And then she screamed. The sheer intensity of it so loud that Parrish stumbled back, clutching his hands over his ears, and the rest of the people in the room did the same.

 

She screamed.

 

And screamed.

 

*********************************************************

 

 

"Mmh...Malia.....hey...." Stiles mumbled between kisses as Malia practically crawled on him, wrapping her body around his. He stumbled back against the wall to hold onto her weight. 

 

"I'm so freaking  _hot_." Malia finally pulled back to give Stiles some air, but before he could get a word out she was back at it.

 

Stiles finally pulled her away, sucking in air. "Whoa whoa. Hold on." He said. "Let's just...wait a moment."

 

Malia frowned down at him. "What? Why?" She made to move forward again and Stiles scooted sideways, sliding her off of his body at the same time.

 

"Just...I need a minute." He said, clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair. "Like I said, I haven't had much sleep lately. And I think I had too much to drink. I'm just a little out of it right now."

 

Malia looked at him a moment before her eyes narrowed. "You're lying."

 

"What?"

 

"You're lying. I can smell it." She moved away from him with a grimace.

 

"No, no, hey hold on." Stiles held his hand out and moved towards her. "I swear I just...I don't feel too good."

 

Malia let out a puff of air, shaking her head again. "Forget it." She said, and before Stiles could stop her she had turned and left the room. 

 

He looked at the door a moment before groaning and putting his face in his hands. "Oh...my...God...What is wrong with me." Seriously, what  _was_ wrong with him?? Since when did he  _not_ want to make out?! Sighing, Stiles realized that he had to take care of this...he just wasn't sure exactly how. He left the room, looking through the hallway he didn't see Malia in any of the other rooms and headed back to the living room. As he approached, he realized that there was no longer any music playing and frowned. When he entered the large room, he found that everyone was quiet, all staring in the same direction. Malia was standing not to far from him and he sighed as he spotted her. "Hey...about what happened..."

 

"Lydia screamed." Malia said, her eyes locked ahead of her.

 

Stiles jerked his head to the group of people. "What? She...oh, shit." He moved forward, pushing past everyone until he spotted Lydia sitting on the floor, her leg's drawn up and rocking slightly. Parrish was kneeled beside her, his hands on her shoulders. "Hey. What happened?"

 

Scott and Kira were standing near and they looked at him. "We don't know." Scott said. "She hasn't said anything yet."

 

"Please tell me that she screamed because she saw a bug or something." Scott gave an 'afraid not' expression and Stiles groaned. "A spider? Come on man! Seriously?!"

 

"Lydia?" Scott knelt down before her, laying a hand on her knee. "Hey. Did you see anything?"

 

Lydia gulped and licked her lips before looking up at him with wide eyes. "No...I just....someone's going to die." She whispered hoarsely. "And I don't know who. Or when."

 

Scott glanced back at Stiles and Kira with a sigh. He frowned then. "Derek?"

 

"What? Derek's going to die?!" Stiles found himself blurting out.

 

"No....Derek. He's here." Scott said, coming to a stand and looking behind Stiles. 

 

Stiles twisted around and saw that Derek was, indeed there, and he was pushing through the crowd of onlookers. What was a bit...alarming, though, was the fact that he looked  _highly_ pissed off. Stiles, from habit, immediately held his hands up. "Whoa...hey there Derek."

 

Derek looked at him and  _growled_. Yes. Growled. He  _had_ heard that right. Even Scott's frown deepened.

 

"Hey. Are you alright?" Scott asked as the taller man approached.

 

"I'm fine." Derek drew out, looking down at Lydia. "What happened?"

 

"She screamed." Scott said, turning his gaze as well.

 

"What?! Then that means..."

 

"Yeah." Scott nodded.

 

"I think that maybe this party is over." Kira spoke up, looking back at everyone still staring at them. "I'll go ahead and usher everyone out. You guys just take care of Lydia."

 

Stiles nodded. "Yeah, I'll help." He moved to join Kira, accidentally bumping into Derek as he passed. Derek released a low rumbling growl again and Stiles jumped away with wide eyes. "Dude...am I the only one...do you guys.... _come on, man!"_ He shook his head and hurried over to help Kira start getting everyone out of Lydia's house.

 

About ten minutes later everyone was gone and he, Malia, Scott, Kira, Liam, Lydia and Parrish were the only one's left in the room. Well, Derek stood off to the side against a wall, staring at them all with his crazy eyes. Stiles couldn't help but glance over at him every other moment, almost as if to make sure he wasn't going to attack. What  _really_ made his skin crawl was the times where Derek was staring back.

 

"So, are you sure you didn't see, or hear anything?" Scott asked Lydia for about the tenth time and she glared up at him.

 

"No, Scott. There was nothing. Just....." Her eyes drifted off. "Just darkness."

 

Scott glanced around at all of them before sighing. "Alright. Well...at least we know that something is going to happen. We can all prepare for it."

 

"Prepare for it how." Derek bit out. "We don't know whose the one that's going to die. Or when, for that matter." He looked at Lydia with a narrowed gaze. "Is there nothing else you can do?"

 

Lydia returned his glare with one of her own. "I'm so sorry I can't be of more service." She bit out. 

 

"You're a freaking banshee! It's what you do!" Derek pushed off of the wall.

 

Lydia drew back, wounded. "It's not like I've had training in this, okay? I didn't exactly have anyone to tell me what to do."

 

"I think we should all just calm down a bit." Stiles said softly.

 

"Shut up, Stiles!" Derek bit out.

 

"Yeah, shut up Stiles."

 

Stiles turned a gasp to Malia, who was glaring at him. "Way to throw me under the bus!"

 

Malia jerked to a stand, rolling her eyes. "Whatever. I'm out of here. Lydia, I'll talk to you later." She said and after giving Stiles one more 'go to hell' look promptly stomped out of there.

 

"Oh, my God this can't be happening." Stiles muttered,  staring at the ceiling.

 

"Dude...what was that about?" Scott spoke up.

 

"Obviously Stiles is having a little girlfriend trouble." Derek snickered. "Can't say I didn't expect it."

 

And just like that something inside of him just... _snapped_. Suddenly all of the pent up emotions, all of the anger and remarks that he had ever kept to himself were set free and Stiles felt heated emotion surge into him so quickly he even felt a little dizzy. "You know what, Derek? You can go fuck yourself." Everyone's eyes in the room shot wide and a sudden quiet fell. No doubt no one even breathed. "What the hell is your problem? What have you got against me, huh?"

 

"Uh - Stiles-" Scott moved forward.

 

"No!" Stiles held his hand up to ward Scott off, aware of Derek going into 'predatory' state, his head lowering and his shoulder's rising as he drew straight. "I don't even care anymore! This guy's had it in for me since we first me and to be honest I'm sick and tired of it. You don't like me. Okay! I get it." Stiles gave a laugh. "And you know what, I'm not too particular of your emo ass wolf self either. So how about you stop growling and glaring at me and either leave me the hell alone or learn to play nice like a good puppy."

 

For a second, no one moved. The shock weighing heavy over the room, and then Stiles heard Scott say 'oh, shit' before suddenly he was jerked up and shoved hard against a wall. The air left his lungs in a painful exhale and he looked up thought slightly blurred vision to find Derek's face directly in front of him, his eyes glowing blue and his fangs showing. His arm was shoved into Stiles' throat, and he could hardly breathe. Stiles gritted his teeth and lifted his hand to fist in Derek's shirt, trying to push him away at the chest. "Get...off of...me." He was able to hiss out. With his other hand he tried to punch Derek, but the wolf anticipated his move and grabbed his fist, shoving it against the wall above his head and not letting go.

 

Suddenly Stiles heard a growl from behind them and Liam and Scott were jerking Derek back. Stiles fell back to his feet, sucking in air and staring up at Derek with wide eyes. 

 

The older wolf tossed Liam aside with little to no effort, and then turned on Scott. 

 

"Derek, you're not in control! You need to calm down!" Scott warned.

 

Derek bared his teeth in a growl and ran at Scott. The two struggled a moment before Derek landed a hard punch to Scott's chin that sent him stumbling down as well. Stiles sucked in a gasp when he realized Derek was coming back for him. He stumbled backwards but before he could get away Derek had shoved him against a wall again, and Stiles groaned when his nose collided with it. His groan was quickly cut off as Derek harshly pressed himself against his back. Stiles cringed when he felt Derek get a fist full of his hair and jerk his head to the side, baring his neck. When he realized that he intended to bite him Stiles' eyes shot wide. 

 

"Derek! Derek...stop! Scott!!!"

 

"I'm really going to enjoy this." Derek growled, his breath brushing over Stiles' skin and making him shiver. He lowered his head, his mouth open, fang's shinning white. Just before he could reach contact though, he was jerked away again, and Stiles released a whimper of relief. 

 

Hearing fighting behind him he turned to see a red eyed Scott and Liam fighting Derek again, and this time, they seemed to be getting the upper hand. 

 

"What the hell is wrong with him?!" Stiles shouted out.

 

Derek's claws came out and raked across Liam's chest then, and Scott growled in fury at the sigh of a member of his pack being hurt. That seemed to give him the juice needed to land a hard enough blow to momentarily stun Derek. Once he was stunned, Scott did not stop. He hit him a few more times until Derek rolled to his back, unconscious. 

 

They all stood there, standing over him with wide eyes, except for Stiles, who still leaned against the wall in shock.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMMENT, KUDOS & BOOKMARK PEEPLES!
> 
>  
> 
> Nah but seriously thanks for all the comments so far. It's doing meh good!


	5. The Animal Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek, guilty of his actions at the Full Moon party, goes to Deaton in the hopes that the Druid will be able to fix whatever it is that is wrong with him. After being a little more honest about the emotions running through his head, Deaton tell's Derek something that both relieves and confuses him, and Derek isn't quite sure what to do.

Derek burst through the door of Deaton's clinic, surprising a few people who had been sitting in the waiting area. A small dog sitting at a ladies foot immediately began to yap uncontrollably at him, and Derek threw a glare down at the annoying animal, which yelped and scurried to hide under a chair. "Deaton!" Derek yelled, approaching the counter where a nervous looking young girl stood. 

 

"Uh..can I help you, Sir?" She croaked out.

 

Derek tsked in annoyance at her. "No. Where is Deaton? Deaton!"

 

Almost immediately the man opened a door and walked out with a deep frown. "Derek? What's going on?"

 

"I need to talk to you.  _Now._ "

 

Deaton frowned at him a moment before nodding and stepping aside. "Come back."

 

Derek pushed past him and came into one of the operating rooms where a cat was lying on the table unconscious, a gasp mask on it's face. He glanced vaguely at it before beginning to pace in clear aggravation. "I know you said that this is normal, but it's not. This is nowhere near fucking normal!"

 

"Derek, why don't you calm down and explain what happened?" Deaton pulled his gloves off and came to stand before Derek, who, after a moments longer of pacing, threw his hands up in a helpless gesture.

 

"My wolf....I think it want's to kill Stiles."

 

Deaton's brow's lifted. "And why would you say that?"

 

"Because I attacked him last night." 

 

"Oh." The Doctor said, blinking a moment before he approached Derek and forced him down into a chair. He pulled up another to sit in front of the wolf, clasping his hands together and leaning forward. "Stiles is okay, I assume?"

 

Derek nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose with a grimace from a pounding headache assulting him. "As okay as he can be, I guess. I haven't seen him since. I couldn't control myself and all I could think of was...digging my fangs into his neck." He whispered the last part, appalled at himself.

 

"Why don't you just start from the beginning?" Deaton urged softly.

 

"Lydia said the other day there were going to have a party. Which, considering it was the night of the full moon seems pretty damned stupid to me. I was planning on staying to the woods until morning. Running out all the pent up frustration and trying to clear my head, you know? That's what I had planned at least." Derek looked away with a sigh. "Before I knew it I was at Lydia's."

 

"So your instinct's drove you there?"

 

"Well, I mean it makes sense. After everything that's happened I guess I must have thought we needed to stay together. Just in case anything happened."

 

"So you were trying to protect everyone, then?"

 

Derek gave a slight shrug, looking a bit lost. "I don't know. I guess. But when I got there?" He shook his head. "I don't know what happened."

 

"Do you remember attacking Stiles?"

 

Derek nodded silently. "It kind of just...happened. I don't know. He's been...getting under my skin lately. I guess my frustration just came out."

 

"What do you mean getting under your skin?"

 

Derek looked up at him a moment before clearing his throat and drawing straight. "Lately he's been putting off this smell. And I don't know what it is but it's like every time I'm around him my wolf goes into a frenzy."

 

"A smell?" Deaton arched a brow.

 

"Look, I know how weird it sounds." He shrugged. "It's just...I don't know how to explain it."

 

"I think I may." Deaton leaned back in his chair, sitting his hands on his lap. "The exact same thing happened to your mother."

 

Derek frowned. "What are you talking about?"

 

"She was going through something similar. After her transformation into a full wolf she became hyper sensitive to someone. Just like you are with Stiles. She told me that the person's smell became really overwhelming and hard to ignore. It would get her worked up and sometimes she would get destructive. Sometimes....other things."

 

Derek frowned at that. "What 'other things'."

 

A slightly sheepish look actually came to Deaton's face, which was surprising to say the least seeing as the man was usually a mask of indifference.  "Derek, your wolf has become more....instinctual. More animal like than before. Just like your mother's did. Wolves are predatory, dominant creatures by nature. And in some cases, that dominant side will come out in your every day life. Especially in...certain situations. After your mother's transformation she told me that there was a man in town that she became more...aware of. She told me that he had a distinct smell suddenly. That when she was near him her inner wolf always threatened to emerge. To put it lightly, her wolf wanted to dominate this person." 

 

Derek opened his mouth in silence a moment, his brows furrowed, unsure how to take that last part. Before he could question it though, Deaton continued.

 

"I'm not sure what it was about  _that_  certain person, or even if there was anything, but the most basic part of her, the wolf, well....." Deaton gave him a sideways look and shrugged.

 

"Wait. Hold up." Derek held up his hand. "The more you talk the more I feel like I  _really_ don't want to hear this _?._

 

Deaton laughed slightly. "Well I imagine not, but it is what it is."

 

Derek huffed out a few times, scrubbing his hand over his face before just deciding to come right out and say it. "Are you trying to tell me that my mother suddenly became...sexually attracted to someone after her transformation?" Because, honestly, what the fuck. Derek imagined his father could not have been happy about that.

 

Deaton gave a wry grin. "Pretty much."

 

He had to be joking! Of all the possible explanations for the way he was feeling recently, this had been the  _last_ thing Derek could have ever expected. He stood, unable to sit still any longer. "Let me get this right. Your'e telling me that...that the reason I've been acting crazy lately is because....because..." Holy hell he couldn't even say it. He didn't  _want_ to say it. It was too outrageous! 

 

"You said it yourself." Deaton offered. "It's only Stiles that get's your wolf worked up."

 

"Yeah that's because he's a dumb ass!" Derek bit out. "Not because I want to... _seriously Deaton?"_

 

Deaton shrugged, a small grin on his face. "I'm just telling you what I know. But honestly, is it really that far fetched?"

 

Derek stared at him stupidly a moment before shouting out a 'yes!'.

 

"Derek you and Stiles have been going at each other since you first met."

 

"By 'going at each other' I assume you mean showing equal animosity." Which, really wasn't true. Derek actually cared a lot about Sties. They had been through so much together. And while Stiles still managed to annoy the shit out of him, Derek also recognized his importance. "Besides. That would be going against my most basic nature. Wolves mate for survival."

 

"That is true." Deaton said, holding up his index finger. "But they also mate for dominance. It's no secret that in the wild a male wolf will mate with another male."

 

"I can't be hearing this right now." Derek  twisted around with an unamused laugh.

 

"Okay, fine. Just tell me one thing. Last night, when you got to Lydia, what's the first thing that happened?"

 

Derek scowled at him over his shoulder before looking down at the floor, going over the night's events, trying to find something that could detour Deaton's reasoning. But realization made him pause in slight surprise. "I smelled something." He muttered. Deaton waited in silence. "Arousal." Derek finally admitted. "It was Malia. Her scent was all over Stiles."

 

"And how did that make you feel?" 

 

Derek remembered the boiling rage that had clouded his vision. His inner wolf pushing a growl past his throat. And Jesus, when Stiles had accidentally touched him and that scent had rubbed off onto him, Derek had been about to attack the boy right then and there. How had it made him feel? Fucking furious. "What the hell am I supposed to do?" Derek drew out in horror.

 

Deaton approached him to lay a hand on his shoulder. "Well I would start off by apologizing. As for what else? You need to figure out your own feelings. If it's just an issue of wanting to dominate Stiles, or something more. And soon. Who knows what you would do by the next full moon."

 

Derek shook his head with a groan. " _Fucking Stiles!_ '"  _  
_

 

 

 

***************************

 

 

"Hey dude, you okay?"

 

Stiles rubbed tired eyes, laying on his bed, Scott's voicing echoing in his ear where he held his phone. "Oh I'm peachy." He yawned. 

 

"Dude last night....."

 

"I know." Stiles said with a sigh when Scott drifted off into silence. "It was pretty crazy. I was pretty crazy." He said with a soft chuckle.

 

"I so did not see you cussing out Derek." Scott snorted, unable to control his laughter. "I've never heard you sound so pissed off. I think you even scared me a little."

 

Stiles laughed, laying an arm over his forehead and staring up at his ceiling through the darkness of his room. "Yeah...I didn't see that coming either. I just kind of snapped there."

 

"I'd say."

 

They were silent a moment before Stiles cleared his throat and went ahead and asked what was on my mind. "So..Derek. What happened after I left?"

 

"Me and Liam took him back to his loft and dumped his unconscious ass into his bed."

 

Stiles whistled softly. "Wow. He was still unconscious? Dude. That must have been some damage you did."

 

"Well, I wasn't going to just stand there and let him take a chunk out of you."

 

Stiles licked his lips, drawing his hand down to touch his neck, where Derek's mouth had hovered. "Yeah. Thank God. That was a close one."

 

"I still can't believe that it happened in the first place." Scott said. "Have you talked to him?"

 

Stiles snorted. "What? Are you serious? No way, man. I'm....staying clear of that mess."

 

"Yeah. I don't blame you. Anyways I'll talk to him later. I know it was kind of crazy what he did but he's not exactly himself at the moment."

 

There was the Scott he knew. Always giving everyone the benefit of the doubt. Stiles smiled softly and nodded, even though Scott could not see it over the phone. "Alright. Let me know what he says. Got to say I'm a bit curious too. Anyways. I'll see you later today."

 

"Alright. Sorry if I woke you. Get some rest." 

 

Stiles pulled the phone away to hang up but heard Scott calling his name and placed it back at his ear with a frown. "Yeah?"

 

"About Malia... Do you wanna...?"

 

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Not even remotely. Maybe later."

 

"Alright, man. Just - Don't let it worry you too much, okay?"

 

Stiles smiled slightly. "You got it buddy. Later."

 

Stiles hung up his cell, tossing it on the floor by the bed before rolling over and facing the wall. His hand was still on his neck, and he closed his eyes, remembering the way Derek's hot breath had spread across his skin. The sudden and unexpected hardness of his body pressing his against the wall. Groaning Stiles rolled over and shoved his face into his pillow.

 

He only had one question. _Why him??_


	6. The Night the Fluff Ended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weekend comes far too fast and Stiles and the pack return to school, where Stiles meets a new student who is strangely familiar. Scott & Kira have a conversation that is pretty hilarious, and later that night Stiles is reminded yet again why he's really starting to dislike Beacon Hills.
> 
> I've jokingly named this chapter lol because as much as i love fluff it has to end at some point to bring the main plot in :( goodbye fluff....hopefully we will see you again...in the near future?? Maybe?? :'(

Sunday passed far too quickly for Stiles, who spent most of the day hanging out with his dad. He hadn't heard from Malia once, and as the day had bore on, that fact began to irritate him more and more. The fact that she was mad at him in the first place confused the hell out of him. What had he done? M _aybe_ he could understand her huffiness over him not being in the mood last night, but the fact that she was taking it this far and not even speaking to him? Call him unwise in the ways of women, but Stiles didn't think it was  _that_ big of a deal. Scott had come over that night for dinner, and afterwards they had played a few games in his room, although even that had changed to talking about Malia. And Derek Hale. And to be honest, what had happened with he and Derek confused Stiles even more than he and Malia. Scott had asked him if he was going to forgive the wolf. Talk to him sometime soon. Stiles knew it would be a lie to say otherwise. As weird and uncalled for as Derek's actions had been, Stiles understood that the guy was going through a hard time and as much as he may have wanted to, he couldn't blame him.

 

That was another thing that had surprised him. He had  _wanted_ to stay mad at Derek. To never want to speak to him again. Hell, the thought brought a certain sense of....relief that Stiles could not deny. But then, the more he thought on it, a feeling of anxiety had began to spike to levels of near exploding and he had had to start playing video games again to distract himself. Scott's wolfy senses had picked up on Stiles' struggle but luckily he hadn't said anything. Maybe Scott had known that to do so would only sent Stiles into some freaked up panic.

 

Before Stiles pushed last nights events completely from his mind, though, he was brave enough to acknowledge that something was happening. With Malia's distance lately (and his own, really), and his constant dreams of a dying Derek, and then after Derek attacking him last night; he realized that things were happening.  _Feelings_ \- were happening. But as brave as he had been to accept that, he was horrified to question it any further. At least not now. 

 

So he and Scott spent the rest of the night playing games, and eventually both fell asleep, like they use to in the old days. Before Beacon Hills had become the center of the supernatural world. In the morning his dad had woken them both up a little earlier so Stiles had time to drive Scott by his house so he could shower and change, and then they were on their way to school. 

 

"Dude, can you believe this is our last year?" Scott asked as he hopped down from Stile's jeep and shut the door, turning to look at Stiles who was walking around the vehicle to join him.

 

"Thank God." Stiles said with a grin. "I don't know about you but I'm ready to get out of this town."

 

Scott watched him a moment in silence before looking away. "You still planning on going to San Francisco for school?"

 

"Uh, yeah! No way in hell I'm staying at the Village of the Damned." He said with a snort. "What about you?"

 

"I dunno. With the way things have been lately I'm just lucky to be alive." He spotted Kira then and waved her down.

 

Stiles watched as she came practically dancing over to jump up into Scott's arms. He gave a slight smile at the sight of the two, glad to see his friend happy. Scott had been through a lot. What with becoming a werewolf in the first place, and then Allison. The fact that his best friend could be so happy again after her death relieved him. The horrific events that had surrounded her death played through his mind and Stiles' smile immediately fell, because that dark had been a part of his life as well.

 

"Hey Stiles!" Kira grinned up at him from under Scott's arm. "Good to see you're still in one piece."

 

Stiles turned to look at her, beginning to walk backwards, and gave a dramatic bow, hand wave and all. Kira started laughing before her eyes got wide and she held up a hand in warning. "Stiles wait--" Before she could finish her sentence though Stiles felt himself collide hard with someone and released a grunt as he went to the ground.

 

"Oh, crap. I'm sorry!" A tall teenager with dark hair and a thick brogue immediately moved to help him stand.

 

"No, no it's okay. I was the dumbass walking backwards anyways." Stiles said, brushing himself off before looking up at the guy with a slight frown. After a moment Scott cleared his throat and Stiles realized he had been staring and gave an awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck. "Oh uh, I'm sorry. I was just thinking that I haven't seen you around before."

 

"Well you wouldn't. I'm new." The guy said with a grin. "Just moved to Beacon Hills a few days ago, actually."

 

"Oh. Oh!" Stiles glanced over at Scott and Kira who were watching him with an arched brow. "Thats....cool?"

 

"But I'm Ryan." The guy held out a hand and Stiles took it after a second with a grin, almost immediately pulling his own back and running his palm on his pants leg. Scott continued to watch the weirdness with a frown.

 

"Stiles. Nice to meet you. And this is...." He looked over at Scott and Kira.

 

"Oh, hey. I'm Scott." Scott nodded in greeting.

 

"Hi." Kira gave a little wave of her hand. "I'm Kira. Where are you from, Ryan?"

 

"Ireland."

 

"Wow. That's....far." Scott said with a frown. "What made your family move here?"

 

"Well, its actually just me. I'm part of an exchange program."

 

"Oh. Very cool." Stiles pursed his lips in through. "Well, uh...I hope you like it here."

 

"Thank's." Ryan said with a smile. "I think I might."

 

Stiles' brows lifted slightly and he clasped his hands together. "Well...I guess we'll see you later then. And sorry, again." He nodded awkwardly and began to head back to the school entrance, his grin falling. He could feel Scott and Kira's amused eyes on him and shook his head. "Don't. Just...don't." He muttered before entering the school. 

 

**********************

 

 

Scott watched Stiles head into his first class and finally was able to look down at Kira with a knowing grin. "That...was horrible." He said with a laugh, leading her to their class.

 

Kira laughed as well. "You think." She tilted her head to the side with a small grin. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that the new guy definitely bats for your team."

 

Scott shook his head with a grin. "You think?"

 

"Oh, yeah." They walked in silence a moment, enjoying each other's company, Kira laying her head on Scott's upper arm. "So did you talk to Derek yesterday?"

 

Scott sighed. "I tried calling him and sending some messages but he wouldn't answer."

 

"How does Stiles feel about the whole thing?"

 

"I think more confused than mad. But he knows that Derek's going through some stuff."

 

"And Malia?"

 

"As far as I know they're still not talking." 

 

"Well...maybe it's for the best."

 

Scott looked down at her with a frown. "Why would you say that?"

 

Kira just looked up at him with a suggestive grin and Scott rolled his eyes. "Not this again."

 

"Oh, come on! It's not like you don't see it too sometimes! Admit it!"

 

Scott glanced sideways at her before shaking his head with a laugh. "Okay. Fine. Yeah I may have noticed a few...things. Maybe some...smells. Butthat doesn't mean anything."

 

"Betcha twenty bucks that it does."

 

Scott looked down at her playful face and laughed. "Alright, fine. You're on." He sealed the deal with a kiss and they walked into the first class laughing.

 

*******************************************

 

 

Stiles sat down in his desk with a sigh, looking back at the empty desk where Malia was supposed to be. The bell had just rung and the last few students were rushing in to their seats. His feet bounced nervously on the floor and he drummed his fingers on the desk, waiting for Malia to come in to see what kind of look she would give him. Because let's be serious here, the look would say it all. It would tell him exactly where they stood and he wouldn't be so freaking lost anymore. As he waited, though, the guy from earlier passed through the door and Stiles drew up slightly. Ryan spotted him and grinned, coming to stand beside him. Stiles looked up with an arched brow. "Hey."

 

"Hey, is this seat taken?" He asked, pointing to the empty desk at his left.

 

"Uh, nah. Go ahead man it's all yours."

 

"Appreciate it." Ryan set his bookbag on the floor and slid into the desk. "So at least I know one person in class."

 

Stiles gave a short laugh before leaning forward with a grin. "Well just a friendly head's up, Ms. Keene can hardly see, so if there's ever a time you want to get a nap in, it's this class."

 

"Thats good to know, thanks." Ryan said, clasping his shoulder.

 

Stiles nodded with a grin, looking down at his hand a moment before clearing his throat and looking back to the door. Which was closed. Meaning everyone was in. Jerking around he found Malia in her seat, a severe glare on her face directed at him. Stiles gave an inward cringe and turned around, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Great." He muttered to himself. 

 

"She doesn't look too happy." Ryan whispered beside him and Stiles gave a snort.

 

"Yeah, tell me about it."

 

"Girlfriend?"

 

Stiles cringed. "Uh..maybe?"

 

Ryan laughed. "Wow. That bad?"

 

Stiles threw his hands slightly and shrugged, leaning closer to Ryan. "It would help if I even knew what she was mad at, man."

 

"No doubt. Can't say I envy you, friend." 

 

"Ha. Thanks." Stiles looked him over a moment. "What about you? Any special girl back home? Guess not, huh? Can't imagine you would have left if there was."

 

Ryan opened his mouth, thinking a moment before he spoke. "Girl? No. But I was in a relationship. It wasn't too serious though. Obviously."

 

Stiles chewed on his upper lip, his eyes slightly wide. "Oh...." Was all he managed to get out before turning slowly to stare at the dry erase board where Ms. Keene was writing. 

 

Beside him Ryan laughed softy, and turned to look as well.

 

*******************************

 

 

 

The last thing Stiles intended to do that night was give Derek Hale a visit. But both Scott and Kira had been hounding him all day at about it. Especially Kira, which was really weird now that he thought about it. She had been like...more persistent than normal. But after getting home and finishing up any homework he may have had, and then watching almost the entire last season of Lost and pacing around his room for about two hours his dad had come pounding open the door practically yelling at him to tell him what was going on. Stiles had very vaguely explained to him that he and the older wolf had had a falling out, being sure to leave out the part where Derek was presently in an uncontrollable wolf state and had almost ripped his neck open last night. For some reason he just didn't think that would have gone over well. In the end his dad had basically shoved him out of the front door, complaining that Stiles' nervous pacing was driving him insane.

 

As if things couldn't be any more complicated, about the time he was almost at Derek's loft Malia sent him a message asking him to come pick her up from Lydia's. So after doing a U-turn in the middle of the street Stiles went to pick her up, telling himself that he didn't feel so freaking relieved that he didn't have to confront Derek yet. Because, apparently he hadn't been ready.

 

When he pulled outside of Lydia's and found Malia sitting on the curb, Stiles took a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever it was that was about to happen. He was still super nervous about the conversation that he knew they were going to have. And while he didn't know the exact outcome, he had a pretty good idea. Malia got in, acknowledging his existence by looking at him and nodding slightly. Licking dry lips Stiles nodded in return. "So where you wanna go?"

 

"It doesn't matter. We can just drive." Malia said softly, sitting her elbow on the window. 

 

"Uh..okay then." Stiles tried not to let her indifference bother him but it did. Pulling away from the curb he headed down the street. "So..hows Lydia?"

 

Malia shrugged beside him."Still a little freaked out about last night. I think she's going to go see Deaton tomorrow during one of her free periods."

 

"Oh yeah? What for?"

 

"She wants to know if he has a way to get in contact with any other Banshee's."

 

Stiles brows rose. "Oh wow. Really?"

 

"Yeah. She's hoping someone can tell her something about her grandmother. Mainly if she's still alive."

 

Stiles nodded and they drove in silence a moment before he spoke up nervously. "So..uh...how are you?"

 

Malia was quiet a moment before looking at him. "I think we should break up."

 

Stiles jerked his gaze to her.

 

"Stiles, the road."

 

"Huh? Oh crap!" He swerved back into his own lane, the car beside him honking it's horn. "Yeah, my bad." He threw up an apologetic hand and decided to take the first turn down a back road. He really didn't want to kill them while they had this conversation. "So just like that?" He asked, glancing over to Malia, who was now looking out the window.

 

"It's just that....I think we are too different."

 

Stiles nodded absently. "Different..." He repeated.  _Human._ He thought to himself. "I mean are you just okay with it? Don't you...I don't know! How do you feel? What are you thinking right now?"

 

Malia turned to him with a sigh. "It just feels like we've been drifting apart since Mexico. I don't know..maybe it's just the shock of everything that's happened. All I know is it doesn't feel right anymore."

 

Stiles gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white, going over her words. They were both quiet a long moment before he gave a slow nod. "Okay. I mean..I'm sorry that you feel that way. And maybe your right. Maybe after everything that's happened we all just need...I don't know, to heal or something."

 

Malia looked at him then, and he saw a flash of pain in her eyes that made his gut clench. "You're not even going to try and fight it?"

 

Stiles shook his head in confusion, totally not knowing what to do. "I mean you said that you didn't want to date me anymore! What am I supposed to do?"

 

Malia laughed and looked away again. "This is what I meant. Nevermind. Just...just take me home."

 

Stiles struggled for words a moment, unsure what to say, or even if he should say anything, and then simply just nodded. "Alright. I'll just turn around --HOLY SHIT!!" He slammed on the  brakes as a figure came stumbling out of the woods and into the road directly in front of him. His tires squeeled loudly a moment and his head collided painfully with the steering wheel. When the car had stopped he cringed and wobbly pulled up his head, feeling hotness drizzle down his temple. Gasping he turned to check on Malia, who was a bit flustered, but alright. "Oh shit there was someone out there!" He hurriedly unbuckled his seat belt and pushed open his door, stumbling out of the car. Running around it he horrifically verified that there was indeed a person in the road, and they were laying on their back now. Unmoving. "Oh my god...did I hit them?" He rushed to them, Malia coming out of the Jeep and joining him. Up close he saw that it was a woman, she had on a dirtied night gown and was barefoot. She was a mess, and looked like she had been running a while. What was most shocking, though, was that her hair was a striking white, and by her face she wasn't much older than Stiles and Malia. Stiles threw a confused look to Malia, who shook her head. "Hey...ma'am?" He approached slowly.  _Please don't let her be dead, please don't let her be dead._ As he came to kneel beside her, Stiles lifted a hand to check her pulse. Just as his fingers were almost on her skin, though, she sucked in a strangled gasp and her eyes shot open wide. They were milked over and whitish, like she was blind, and Stiles stumbled back at the unexpected sight. 

 

"Help...me..." She whispered hoarsely, grabbing onto Stiles sleeve. And then her body jerked, and her eyes rolled back in her head.

 

Stiles shook his head, his eyes incredibly large. "No, no, no. Hey...HEY!" He grabbed her shoulder and shook, but she did not move. Her eerie eyes did not open again and she no longer breathed.

 

"Is she..." Malia whispered behind him and Stiles jumped to his feet, stumbling back.

 

"Yeah." He croaked out. "She's dead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for all the comments so far <3 it helps so much!


	7. A New Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles & Malia go over everything that they saw at the police station while Sheriff Stilinski angrily comes to terms with the fact that something supernatural may be roaming the streets of Beacon Hills once again killing. Derek shows up and he and Stiles have their first conversation after the full moon incident, smoothing things out between them a bit. Later, Deaton pay's a friend a visit at the morgue, hoping to find answers behind the new and unexplained death.

"And there was no one else around?" Parrish looked up from the notepad where he had been scribbling down the details Stiles and Malia were going over.

 

"No." Stiles shook his head. "I mean...you could tell that she had been running but I didn't see anyone else." He looked to Malia. "What about you? Pick anything up with your senses?"

 

Malia thought a moment before shaking her head. "No. I'm sorry. I didn't sense anything."

 

Parrish nodded after a moment and sat back with a sigh. "Well we have people on the scene right now. Hopefully they can come up with some clues as to what happened."

 

"It's just...it's odd, you know." Stiles frowned as he went over the memory. "I mean her hair was totally white. Like she was 90 years old. But she couldn't have been much older than us."

 

"Well I know they say fear can turn your hair white."

 

Stiles arched a brow at Parrish. "Completely white?" He sat back in his chair, glancing over at Malia. "Well then I really don't want to know what scared her so much in the first place."

 

Parrish glanced towards the office door, making sure it was shut before leaning forwards to speak softly. "Do you think that this was something supernatural?"

 

Stiles gave a short laugh. "It is Beacon Hills. I wouldn't be surprised."

 

At that moment Stiles spotted his dad burst into the police station, searching the room worriedly. He stood and opened the door, waving his dad down who gave a huge sigh of relief and marched over to him, pulling him into a tight hug. 

 

"Thank God." Sheriff Stilinski ground out.

 

"Hey, I'm fine, dad." Stiles pulled away with a grin, patting his dad on the shoulder. "So is Malia."

 

Sheriff Stilinski looked over to Malia and let out another relieved sigh before looking behind him and shutting the door. He moved in on Stiles immediately. "Tell me everything that happened. Was this...not normal?"

 

Stiles shrugged. "I don't know. We were just talking about that. It was definitely a little too strange to be anything but."

 

"Malia, you pick up anything?"

 

Malia looked up at the Sheriff. "All I know is that she was scared before she died. Like...horrified." 

 

"Well that doesn't necessarily mean that she was killed by something supernatural." The Sheriff nodded, determined. "There could be a logical explanation for this."

 

Stiles arched a brow. "A logical explanation for why a girl was most likely running from someone, or something in the dead of night in the woods of Beacon Hills? Yeah. Cause that happens. Plus the fact that her hair was bone white and her eyes too?" Stiles shook his head, laying a hand on his dad's shoulder. "Sorry, dad, but I think this is definitely one of  _those_ cases."

 

"Goddammit!" Sheriff Stilinski twisted around, scrubbing a hand over his face as he began to pace.

 

Stiles watched him worriedly. "Hey, you alright?"

 

"No!" His dad swung on him, throwing his hands up angrily. "I thought...I thought all this was over. I almost lost you when you went to Mexico. I almost lost you before when --" Sheriff drew off as his son looked down, shame covering his features. He gave a guilty sigh, grabbing his son again for a smothering bear hug. "Hey. I'm sorry. I'm just...it just feels like this never ends."

 

Stiles laughed softly. "Again, dad. It is Beacon Hills."

 

Sheriff Stilinski seemed to give in, nodding scratching the back of his head idoly. "Well, you're the expert in all this. What do you think we should do?"

 

Stiles shrugged. "I'd start by calling Deaton. If anyone would have any insight into this it would be him. I'll take a look through the bestiary and see if I can find anything that makes it's victims hair and eyes turn white."

 

"Right. Right." The Sheriff pulled out his phone and headed back out of the office.

 

"Well, I'll start looking as well." Parrish spoke up. "I still have the bestiary Lydia gave me."

 

"Yeah, about that. Any luck on finding out what you are?" Stiles asked, leaning against the door frame.

 

Parrish shook his head with a frown. "Not really. Maybe I should google it, huh?"

 

Stiles chuckled, turning to look at Malia who had been sitting there so quietly. Their conversation flashed through his mind and he licked his lips, pushing off of the wall. "Uh, hey. You want me to take you back to Lydia's now?"

 

"I can do it." Parrish could not quite hide the eagerness in his eyes. "I mean, that is if Malia doesn't mind driving with me."

 

"Not the first time I'll have sat in a cop car." Malia said with a grin and Parrish laughed.

 

"Alright, come on then. My shift was ending anyways. 

 

"Uh, great. So..I'll see you at school then?" Stiles hated how awkward he sounded right then. How awkward they had gotten.

 

Malia gave a short nod. "Sure. Bye."

 

Stiles watched the two leave before releasing a pained groan, falling back into one of the chairs. He slumped down and rested his forehead in his hand. Tonight had been...well horrible. He and Malia had broken up. He had known it was going to happen sooner or later, and honestly wasn't sure how to feel about it. He just felt...really numb. Disconnected from the rest of the world at the moment. Like he was just floating by in a semi consciousness. The thought made him frown. Since when had he lost his anchor. What had his anchor been in the first place? After his moms death, it had been his dad. He had held onto that thought so strongly, and it had been the only thing to keep him sane. And then when Scott had been bitten, his best friend had turned into his anchor. Which was odd, the more he thought about it. Scott becoming a werewolf had been a chaotic, confusing time for his best friend. It made so much more sense that Stiles would have been an anchor for Scott. But somehow it was the other way around. Maybe...maybe Stiles just felt better knowing that someone  _needed_ him. Which was pretty pathetic in a way. Blowing out a puff of exasperated air Stiles pulled his cell from his pocket to text Scott about everything that had happened, but as he glanced up he froze, the sight of Derek entering the station causing his heart to skip a beat. He watched the wolf tip his head back slightly and smell the air before his intense gaze fell on Stiles, and Stiles  _tried_ not to feel unsettled that the wolf had smelled him to find out where he was.

 

Derek approached him slowly, until he was filling the entrance of the office. He looked Stiles over a moment. "So you're alive then."

 

Stiles gnawed on is lip with a nod. "How did you know?"

 

"Malia sent a message to Scott, who sent a message to me."

 

Stiles returned his phone to his pocket with a nod. Apparently he didn't need to text Scott then. "Guess she beat me to it. But yeah, as you can see I'm alive." Stiles grinned and held his hands out to prove so. Derek ran his eyes over his body in silence, and Stiles eventually looked away, clearing his throat and hating the fact that his heart was pounding like a damned drum, which the wolf would know, of course. 

 

Across from him Derek eventually released a sigh and moved further into the office, sitting on Parrish's desk. Stiles drew up straight, lifting arched brows to look up at Derek. "Look. I'm sorry, okay?" Derek struggled with words a moment before finally just giving in and sighing. "I know I don't have any excuses. It just...happened. And I'm sorry." He said again.

 

Stiles looked away. "Well, you actually do have an excuse." He said softly before glancing back at Derek he was watching him in that quiet, unsettling way of his. "I know that you're going through a rough time. It's not like I can hold it against you when you weren't even in control. So let's...I don't know, just forget about it."

 

"Really? Just like that?"

 

Stiles heard Derek's words and couldn't help but laugh.

 

"What?" Derek asked with a frown.

 

"It's nothing. It's just-" He began to chew on his thumb pad, looking up at Derek. "Me and Malia broke up tonight. Anyway she said something almost exactly like that and it just...I dunno. I guess I just found it funny."

 

"Oh...I'm sorry."

 

Stiles shrugged. "So I guess you were right the other night."

 

Derek gave a confused frown. "Wait...when I tried to eat you?"

 

"Wh--no! You idiot!" Stiles didn't know why but for some reason Derek's words had heat surging to his face and he shifted awkwardly in his chair, grumbling to himself a moment before glaring up at the wolf who was watching him with an amused grin. "When you said we were having problems. Seriously?" He hissed again before coming to stand. "Anyways, I guess I'll head back and start looking though the bestiary for some clues."

 

"Wait." Derek reached out and grabbed hold of his arm, sucking in a deep inhale at the hot flush that spread over his bod at the contact.

 

Sterek looked down at his hand, swallowing hard before glancing up. This close Stiles could basically feel Derek's hot breath on his cheek and gulped, noticing that the wolf's eyes were beginning to shift slightly more blue.

 

"We're okay then?" Derek drew out, watching as Stiles shifted his gaze downwards, his long lashes sweeping to cast shadows on his cheeks. He licked his lips, a nervous gesture that Derek had always been aware of, one that he was suddenly even more so.

 

"Yeah. We're fine." Stiles all but whispered, feeling like all of his air was somehow being in-caged in his lungs. He knew that Derek was aware of his rapidly beating heart and felt embarrassment heat his ears. Derek released him then, but the hot burn of his hand still remained on Stiles arm. He cleared his throat and began to continue to the door. "I'll see you around, Derek."

 

He could feel Derek's eyes on him all the way out of the station.

 

***************************************************************************************************

 

Deaton approached the morgue later that night, casting a glance to his watch and seeing that it was a little after 1AM. Perfect. Hutchins will have started his shift about two hours ago and would be well into the autopsy. Approaching the back entrance Deaton knocked on the door, knowing it was useless to call out that he had arrived. Hutchins would already know. A second later the door pulled open with a creak, and Deaton looked up at Hutchins with an arched brow. "You look...well."

 

Hutchins, a man who look in his mid to late twenties with a mess of dark blonde hair gave a sarcastic grin, looking down at his apron which was covered with blood. "Like it's so shocking." He said, moving aside so Deaton could enter. He shut the door behind him and followed Deaton into the autopsy room, where a body was presently lying on the table opened up. Deaton cringed slightly and Hutchins passed him to pull the sheet up and cover the body.

 

"My bad. I forgot that you're squemish like that."

 

"Wouldn't call it squemish, really. I'd think it pretty normal to not want to see the insides of a dead body."

 

"Lucky I'm not normal then." Hutchins said, winking one of his pale blue eyes.

 

"Indeed." Deaton said dryly, appraoching the covered body. "Was this her?"

 

"Yeah. And I've got to say, man, I've never seen anything quite like this."

 

Deaton frowned up at him, surprised. "Never? Well...that's not very comforting."

 

"Tell me about it." Hutchins scoffed. "Whatever did this, it definitely wasn't human. For one I ran a hair test. Completely white, by the way. Not gray, white. All of it. It was even to the roots man."

 

"I heard that she wasn't much older than a teenager."

 

"She wasn't. That's what's so weird about it. And then there's this." Hutchins pulled back the sheet just enough to show her face. He pulled open an eye lid to show milky white eyes. "Dude. She's a fresh. Rigormortis shouldn't have set in yet."

 

"Stiles said that when they found her still alive they were like that."

 

Hutchins lifted pale brows and looked down at the body again. "See. That's even more weird. And she wasn't blind. Her cornea's were fine."

 

Deaton stared down at the dead girl in silence, wondering who she was. Her family. The life she would never have. "Is there anything else?"

 

Hutchins snorted. "Yeah. Only the weirdest shit out of all of this. Get this." He motioned to her still body. "The girl's insides,  _dried out._ Completely."

 

Deaton frowned up at him. "How is that possible?"

 

"Beat's me. But, whatever did this?" Hutchins looked down at her, shaking his head. "It not only scared the shit out of her. It drained her of all life completely."

 

"We need to prepare." Deaton said softly before looking back up at Hutchins. "We could use your help. Are you sure you won't join us?"

 

Hutchins tilted his head and smiled slightly. "You know I won't."

 

Deaton nodded, understanding, though that didn't mean it still didn't irk him. Hutchins would be a valuable asset to their group, but he could understand the man's need for distance. "Well...it looks like we have a new enemy in Beacon Hills." 

 

Again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to add another OC to the storyline, and I have to say I'm quite happy with his character so far. Will be fun to see where it ends up. Thanks for reading and I hope you guys enjoyed! Comment if ya liked! Kudos is always appreciated as well :)
> 
>  
> 
> LMAO also I just noticed that towards the endish of the chapter I called Stiles 'sterek'. My inner fangirl must have been squeeling at the scene and came through lol yeaaah ima leave it lol


	8. The Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles can't shake the feeling that his new friend Ryan may be hitting on him. Hard. During lunch the pack decides on their next course of action, and that night at Derek's loft, Stiles ask's Derek something that he's too embarrassed to ask the other's.

Stiles entered the halls of Beacon Hills high, stifling a large yawn. He had stayed up last night until about 4AM going through the beastiary, which had proved useless because he had been unable to find a match for their Mystery Monster number...well... _alot_. There were still many pages to go through, though, so there was still much homework to be done. After crawling into bed with an exhausted sigh, he had annoyingly found himself laying there for hours in a sleepless state. Twisting and turning in his bed until his covers had become a tangled mess. His mind just wouldn't shut up. He kept thinking about the dead girl. About Malia. His father's upset outburst at the station. Freaking Derek Hale. The list just went on and on, really. And by the time his eyes finally shut, his alarm clock was blaring out Pink (most likely thanks to Scott smoothly changing it the other night) and Stiles was rolling out of bed with a groan, going through his morning routine like a zombie. He had somehow even put on mismatched socks, but seeing as he was wearing pants that day he didn't particularly feel like breaking away from his laziness to fix the issue. 

 

"Hey, Stiles!" 

 

Stiles turned around sleepily, grinning with a nod when he spotted Ryan jogging over to walk with him. "Hey. What's up man?"

 

Ryan looked at him with a grin. "You look like shit."

 

Stiles snorted. "Thanks. Didn't get much sleep last night."

 

"I heard what happened, are you okay?"

 

"Word travels fast, doesn't it." Stiles shrugged a trim shoulder. "Yeah I guess. I mean, it's never particularly awesome seeing a dead body, but what are you going to do?"

 

Ryan frowned then. "Have you seen one before."

 

Stiles turned an arched brow to him, stumbling over words a moment. "Uh, well you know. In movies and stuff....Yeeeah." He licked his lips and looked away worriedly, inwardly cursing at his own slipped tongue.

 

Ryan seemed okay with that answer because he nodded.

 

"So, man. How are you liking Beacon Hills so far?" Readily changing the subject seemed like a good idea.

 

Ryan thought a moment before speaking in that deep brogue of his. "I'll be honest. At first I wasn't too sure. But I've definitely started to change my mind."

 

"Oh, really? She growing on you that fast, huh?" Stiles said, referring to the town.

 

Ryan turned away with a smug smile. "Wouldn't really say it's the town so much as the...people...in particular."

 

Stiles couldn't help it, he jerked his gaze over to Ryan at the not so subtle undertones in his words, his mouth hanging open dumbly a moment. Beside him Ryan cut him an amused look, his grin spreading. Stiles, ever the awkward one, was only able to laugh nervously before turning wide eyes ahead as he walked. He was suddenly pretty aware of two things, 1. Ryan was gay. The guy had admitted it himself yesterday- and 2. That question that he had asked Danny a few years back, if Stiles was attractive to gay guys...well....that would be a yes. Or at least to one gay guy in particular. He gave yet another nervous laugh before pointing to a class room door. "Uh I've gotta- that's the....class...I gotta go!"

 

Ryan snorted across from him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "See you in class later, Stiles."

 

Stiles chewed on his upper lip and looked down at Ryan's hand, managing a nod and 'mm-hmm' before he twisted around and power walked into the classroom. 

 

 

 

Later that day, after receiving a group text, Stiles headed into the empty chem room during lunch, walking in to find Scott, Kira, and Liam already there. Scott was sitting on a desk, Kira standing between his legs, and Liam leaned against a wall a little ways from then, looking out the window. As he glanced up and looked at Stiles, almost immediately darting his gaze away, Stiles became suddenly sure that he and Malia had...something going on. He wasn't saying that they were dating or anything, and maybe nothing had even happened. But Stiles knew that guilty look. Liam liked Malia. He was 100% sure of it. And as much as Stiles wanted to be mad at the younger wolf, he found that he just couldn't. Malia was gorgeous. She was funny and one of the most willful people he had ever known. Why  _wouldn't_ he like her? As Stiles came to stand beside Scott, grinning and patting his back, he couldn't help but feel a slight bit of remorse. Not because he was second guessing he and Malia's breaking up. Strangely enough he knew it had been the right thing to do; but more so because he was envious of what was to come for his ex and Liam. He would really miss having someone to talk to. To just lay with at night. Or to cuddle up with on a couch watching movies and laughing the night away. Suddenly, he felt very much alone.

 

"Hey, dude." Scott reached up and messed his hair annoyingly, and Stiles hissed, pushing his hand away with a mock glare that made Scott and Kira laugh. "How you doing after last night? Sorry I couldn't get to the station in time, Malia and me were--"

 

"Whoa. Don't even need to know." Stiles held up his hand with a laugh. "It's alright. Parrish and my dad were there." He paused. "And Derek showed up too."

 

Scott's brows rose and Kira turned an interested gaze his way. "Realy? Did you guys...."

 

"Have a battle to the death in which I obviously won?" Scott scoffed at his words and Stiles shook his head with a grin. "Nah everything was fine. I'll have you know the Big Bad Wolf apologized to me and everything."

 

"Aww." Scott drew out and Kira chuckled.

 

"Yeah, yeah. Eat it up." Stiles rolled his eyes and turned to look at Liam, who had been watching the three of them silently. "Liam! Dude why so brooding?"

 

Liam gave a small smile and shrugged. "Just wondering what we're dealing with now."

 

Stiles snorted. "Knowing this town it could be anything. I'm really hoping for Big Foot, though. I'd like in on that action."

 

Liam finally laughed fully, shaking his head. Lydia and Malia walked in at that exact time and Liam's laugh fell silent as he stared pretty hard core at Malia, who briefly glanced up at him before looking away, and Stiles gave an inward sigh. Okay. Yep. Something  _definitely_ had happened. Had it been last night, after they had broken up? Stiles tried not to feel wounded, but that stung something powerful.

 

"Can't we find a better place for our top secret meetings than a chemistry room?" Lydia said dryly, coming to stand beside Stiles, elbowing him playfully.

 

"Well where do you suggest, Nancy Drew." Stiles said with a grin.

 

Lydia rolled those big blue eyes at him and then shrugged. "I don't know! We need to find a place where we can all go to for situations like that!"

 

"Yeah. Like Derek's loft?"

 

"Well considering he tried to eat you the other night, I wasn't sure if that was still an option."

 

The two glared at each other a moment before Malia cleared her throat. "Guys I think we really need to start. We've only got about 45 more minutes."

 

"She's right." Scott hopped off of the desk to take control, all Alpha-like. "We need to figure out what killed that girl, and soon. Before anyone else dies."

 

His words fell heavy on the a moment before Stiles cleared his throat. "I looked through the bestiary all morning and no luck."

 

"So did Parrish and me." Lydia nodded. "We've got nothing either."

 

"This thing  _has_ to be in there. What about Deaton?"

 

"I saw him earlier today." Lydia continued, looking at them all with a sigh. "Apparently he's never seen anything like it before. He has no idea what we're dealing with, guys."

 

"Great. So the all knowing Druid, doesn't know." Stiles threw his hands up. "I don't know about you guys, but that kind of tells me we're screwed."

 

"No. We can't just give up like that. I'll talk to Chris Argent. Maybe he'll have come across something like this before."

 

"Speaking of, I haven't heard anything from him." Stiles looked to everyone, who shook their heads. "What's the guy been doing? I mean, it's not like we're besties or anything, but Scott he usually keeps contact with you."

 

"I know." Scott sighed, running a hand through his black hair. "I think with everything that happened with his sister he's kind of fallen off the radar. Can't say I blame him."

 

"Well if I had a homicidal bitch jaguar of a sister that killed dozens of people I can't say I'd want to be around society much either."

 

"Technically she got the bazerkers to kill most of those people." Liam peeped up.

 

"Oh yeah, cause that makes all the difference." Stiles mocked him.

 

"Whatever it is that's out there, we need to be prepared for it." Malia said, looking at all of them. "I think we should head to Derek's loft tonight."

 

Stiles licked his lips at that comment, glancing sideways and nodding. "She's right. If there ever was a time for you guys to train it's now."

 

"We've got practice today, but we'll head over after." Scott said to Stiles and Liam before his gaze grew serious."Let's just hope that by the time we do figure out what and who this thing is...it's not too late."

 

************************************************

 

 

"Oh, my  _GOD!_ " Stiles groaned, leaning over, his hands on his knees and he sucked in gulps of air. "I don't think I can do this today. Scotty, you're going to have to carry me."

 

Scott grinned down at Stiles from the top of the stairs in front of Derek's door, Liam rolling his eyes as he knocked. "Come on, Stiles. Just a few more steps."

 

"Why the hell does Derek home have to be at the top of a mountain!" He bit out, trudging upward, pulling himself up on the railing. "Dude I just had to run five laps across the field. The last thing I'm ready for is killing myself on these damn stairs!" He drew out angrily. It didn't help that they hadn't showered and changed after practice, so still had on their gym shorts and jersey's. Stiles, though had taken his off, leaving just his thin white tee on, which was presently sticking hotly to his back. It had been a pretty hot day, and a fresh bead of sweat mocked him in that moment as it rolled down his temple and he swiped at it annoyingly. He soo couldn't wait to hop into Derek's shower and change. He heard the door open above him and groaned in relief, not looking up he made for the last few steps. "Derek I don't care how much you like this place, you have to move. Now."

 

"He's had a long day." Scott laughed above him before he and Liam moved past Derek to enter the loft. 

 

"Oh, gimme air conditioning." Stiles whispered happily as he finally approached the door. He looked up at Derek with a grin and stumbled to a stop, his grin slowly falling to a frown. Derek gripped the door so hard the knuckes of his hand were white, his jaw was clenched tightly and his chest rose and fell in deep inhales. Stiles drew back slightly when he saw that his eyes were slowly growing more and more blue. "Whoa....Derek?" He asked worriedly, waiting for a replay of the other night.

 

Derek sucked in a deep inhale before his shoulders stiffened and he looked away, running a hand over his face. 'I'm fine." He bit out deeply, stepping aside to allow Stiles to enter.

 

Stiles nodded slowly, still a little unsure and carefully passed him, swearing that as did so he heard Derek suck in a hiss before the older wolf slammed the door closed. Stiles scurried further into the loft, glancing behind him to see that Derek was stomping a war path out of the room and towards the kitchen. He watched him a moment with arched brows before finally giving in with a shrug and turning to find Scott and Liam joining everyone else in the living room. "Guys!" Stiles saw Chris Argent leaning against the full wall window then and gasped. "Hey! It's Argent! Awesome to see you, man."

 

Chris pushed off of the window with a grin and clasped Stiles' hand, patting his back. "Nice to see you too Stiles."

 

"Aww look. The whole gang is here. It's so moving."

 

Everyone rolled their eyes and scoffed at him before they began getting into place to train. Stiles watched them silently a moment before turning and heading for the kitchen. He had something that had been on his mind for a while and now seemed as good a time as any to get it out. He found Derek sitting at his table drinking a beer and Stiles knocked on the entrance way with a small grin. "Hey big guy. It alright if I join you?"

 

Derek pushed a chair out from across the table with his foot and Stiles moved to sit, drumming his hands on the table with a grin. Derek watched him with an arched brow and Stiles immediately stopped, drawing straight. "Okay, so I have something on my mind and I figure you're the person I should talk to about it."

 

Derek's brows rose even higher but he sat there silently, waiting.

 

"Okay. So. I was thinking. With everything that's happened, and this new thing that's come up,it just seems like a good idea if I...you know, just...uh, well you see. The thing is, I'm human Derek."

 

Derek continued to stare at him dryly and Stiles cleared his throat nervously before continuing.

 

"Yeah, so anyways, being human in a pack of...non-human's can be..well...let's just say that I ain't really the one people would come to if they needed rescuing, okay?"

 

"Oh, my God. Stiles!"

 

Stiles jumped from Derek's sharp voice and he nodded quickly. "Okay, okay yeah I'll just get to the point then." He paused before looking up at Derek tentitavily. "Do you think you could... I don't know...kind of...train me.." He muttered the last part between clenched teeth.

 

"What?" Derek hissed with a stern frown.

 

"Oh, my God!" Stiles finally gave in, throwing up his hands like he wasn't the one making this so difficult. "Train me, Derek. Okay?! Jeez what more do I need to say?"

 

Derek glared at him a long moment before dragging in a calming breath and taking a gulp of his beer before finally looking at him. "You're joking, right?"

 

Stiles scoffed, offended. "Um, no. I'm serious here, man. Look, I'm not dumb, okay. This, this right here - " He fisted his hand and held up arm to point at his forearm, where just the slightest bulge of muscle was. "While it may amaze those of the human persuasion, I know that compared to you guys I'm about as powerful as a kitten."

 

Derek couldn't help it. He snorted out in laughter, turning his head away and resting his chin in his hand. Stiles smiled at the sight, glad to see his friend laughing again. It had been so long since he had last done so. "So come on! What do you say?!"

 

Derek rolled his eyes, sitting back in his chair. "Stiles I'm all for you trying to get stronger, but I'm just not sure I'm the best choice. I mean what about Scott?"

 

"What? No. Nada. Ziltch." Stiles shook his head dramatically. "Scott's got his hands full with Liam and Kira most of the time. The last thing he needs is to watch me making an ass of myself. Which, come on, we all know you would enjoy!"

 

Derek shook his head, but was still grinning. "Well, you're right about that, at least."

 

"See!" Stiles held his hands out. "It's the perfect idea!"

 

Derek watched him a moment, his smile slowly fading until he was looking at Stiles for such a long, unblinking span that  Stiles began to twitch. "I don't know." He finally said, looking away. "I'll have to think about it."

 

"Oh come on, man! I'm tired of being useless!"

 

"You're not useless, Stiles. You never were." Derek said seriously, looking at him again. "And, in case you've forgotten, I'm not exactly in tip top condition right now."

 

Stiles shrugged. "So, that makes this even more perfect! I figure you training me will be like training yourself all over again! It will give you time to reign in that wild wolf you got." Stiles said, wagging his brows.

 

Derek laughed again and after a moment sighed. "Fine. But!" He said as Stiles fist pumped the air. "If we're going to do this I think we need to bring Chris Argent in on it. He's only human as well and can still kick some werewolf ass."

 

"I'm all for it man!" Stiles said with a grin, bobbing his head merrily. 

 

Derek rolled his eyes, looking up to the ceiling. "Why do I feel like this is going to be a disaster." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh lol I sooo love creating awkward situations between Stiles & Derek. And there are thankfully going to be lots, with Derek training him. 
> 
> Comment & Kudos beautiful people!!


	9. Smells So Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Sterek action plus another victim is taken in Beacon Hills.

"Oh ye of little faith!" Stiles smacked the table in front of Derek with a wide grin, practically bouncing in his seat. "Oh this is going to be freaking awesome!"

 

"Yeah, Stiles. It's going to be great." Derek said dryly, taking a slow sip from his bottle. 

 

"Oh don't be such a Sourwolf! We are going to have a badass time, Derek! Be prepared, to be amazed." Stiles threw up a gun finger complete with a snap and winked.

 

"Oh, my God." Derek muttered under his breathe, rubbing his eyebrows. He rose then, moving to toss his empty bottle in the trash.

 

"So, we gonna do this?!"

 

Derek turned an arched brow to him. "Do what?"

 

"Train, duh!" Stiles scoffed, rolling his eyes.

 

Derek smirked. "I don't think you're ready for that yet."

 

"What?!" The teenager threw up his hands. "Dude, I'm totally ready. Come on don't leave me hanging man. What better time than now?"

 

"Maybe you should just wait until tomorrow, Stiles. You're exhausted as it is. I can smell it coming from you in waves."

 

"Okay, for the last time, I'm gonna need you to stop smelling me." 

 

"Believe me, I wish I could." Derek muttered softly, turning away from Stiles to head out of the kitchen.

 

"Whoa, hey! I'm serious! I'm ready!" Stiles reached forward and grabbed ahold of Derek's shoulder, and the next thing he knew his back was slamming against the kitchen table, his feet dangling over the floor. He sucked in a shocked gasp, cringing and gripping onto Derek's shirt as the wolf bent closely over him, his eyes glowing blue. 

 

"This doesn't look very ready, Stiles." Derek drew out darkly, leaning even closer until their noses were almost touching.

 

Like always Stiles couldn't hold the older man's intense gaze and eventually turned his face until he was staring at the wall with a glare. "I got it!" He bit out, beating on his chest. "Let me up."

 

"No." Derek said simply and Stiles jerked his gaze back with a frown.

 

"No?" He squeaked out.

 

"No." Derek said again, a wicked grin spreading his lips, his white teeth flashing. "Show me what you would do, Stiles. Imagine I'm you're enemy. Imagine I'm the thing that killed that girl. What are you going to do?"

 

Stiles gritted his teeth, glaring up at him a moment before jerking his fist back to punch Derek in the face. Derek caught his hand more easy than Stiles liked, shoving it over his head and grabbing his other to keep it firmly placed at his side. Stiles felt himself burn hot in mortification as Derek's body was automatically pushed more firmly against his own and his heart began to beat so hard he could feel his body pulsing from it. 

 

"Okay, so it's safe to say  _that_ definitely didn't work." Derek drew out softly, his eyes now full blue and glowing. "What next, Stiles?"

 

"Well I think it's also safe to say that no one else is as touchy feeley as you are!" Stiles rushed out in a hot, angry whisper, glaring up at Derek. "So I don't think I would really have this problem!"

 

"Well you know what they say. You have to be prepared for everything. Either way, you'd be dead by now." Derek smirked over him.

 

Stiles sucked in a deep breath of frustration before making a last attempt at escape and basically flailed his body, hoping to push the older man off of him. All it did was scoot him further down the table and Stiles inhaled sharply, his eyes slightly wide, as one of Derek's legs, which had been between his own, hit him.  _There._ Stiles felt another hot wave rush over him and his heart pounded painfully hard in his chest. "Get off of me, Derek." He drew out softly. Above him Derek had closed his eyes and was dragging in a deep inhale, his chest rising until it was pressing against Stiles. Stiles felt his gut clench and his breathing beginning to hitch. "Derek, I think I'm about to have an attack." He whispered hoarsely, now sucking in deep gasps, licking dry lips. His eyes began jotting around him weakly, his vision beginning to blur. "Derek!"

 

The screamed managed to snap Derek out of his haze and he looked down to see Stiles in full panic mode. Swearing sharply he jerked back, pulling Stiles up to a sit. He reached out to touch him but Stiles held his hand up and shook his head, stumbling down from the table and digging his inhaler out of his gym shorts. He took a few sharp drags of the thing before leaning weakly back against the table again, blinking slowly as he started to calm down. "You're..an asshole." He managed to gasp out at Derek, who stood completely unsure what to do.

 

Derek cringed in guilt. "I'm so sorry." He drew out. "I didn't mean for---" He stopped, running a slightly shaking hand through his jet black locks. "I'm sorry." He said again.

 

Stiles slid his inhale back in his pocket and cleared his throat, looking down at the floor. "I guess you were right, though. I obviously wasn't ready." He drifted into silence then and Derek thought ' _This is it. He'll not want to do it anymore'_. But then Stiles nodded determinedly and looked back at him. "I'll just have to do better next time." _  
_

 

Derek lifted his brows in surprised, totally not expecting his words. "Are you sure that you should...I mean you just had a panic attack Stiles."

 

"Which is why I need to." Stiles licked his lips and straightened. "I can't be like this forever, Derek." He gave a mock laugh then, looking at Derek. "And I mean... _you_ give me panic attacks. In a way that would kind of make you the perfect person to train me, right?"

 

Derek nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess."

 

Stiles cleared his throat, running a hand across the back of his neck. "Any way I was gonna ask you before, but is it okay if I use your shower?"

 

"Yes." Derek all but bit out and Stiles arched a confused brow. Derek drew in a deep breath before continuing. "Go ahead. You know where it is."

 

Stiles nodded absently before brushing past him, and Derek shut his eyes and gritted his teeth as the boys arm grazed his. Derek waited until his sensitive hearing picked up the sound of a shower being run before opening his eyes and letting out a shaking breath. Derek stumbled back until he was leaning on the counter, drawing in deep inhales and pushing out long exhales, trying to calm his supped up senses and the wolf that was still struggling to break free. Derek tried to dismiss what had been obvious, but eventually couldn't deny the fact that the scent of arousal had practically pulsated from Stiles. And as if that weren't apparent enough, he could always refer to the raging erection between Stiles' leg. Derek doubted the boy had been aware of his own, seeing as he had been having a panic attack. Or at least Derek hoped. He  _really_ freaking hoped.

 

Glancing around the kitchen almost painfully Derek wondered how the hell he was supposed to train Stiles now, eventually letting out a growl of frustration.  _Fucking Stiles!_

 

_**************************************************_

 

 

"Hey, you okay man?" Scott asked Stiles for about the hundredth time since they had hopped in his jeep and left Derek's loft.

 

Stiles nodded again. "Mm-hm." He mumbled, eyes ahead on the road.

 

"Cause you...look not okay." Scott said with an arched brow.

 

Stiles thought a moment before clearing his throat. "Me and Malia broke up last night."

 

"Ah, shit. Stiles I'm sorry." Scott layed a hand on his shoulder and Stiles nodded after a moment.

 

"Thanks. It's alright, though. It wasn't messy or anything like that. We've just..drifted."

 

Scott frowned in understanding. "How is Malia?"

 

"Fine, I guess." Stiles paused a moment before decided to share his hunch. "I think she and Liam are together now. Or at least going to be soon."

 

"What?!" Scott drew out sharply, his eyes glowing the faintest red.

 

"No, no it's fine. Really." Stiles hurriedly assured him, not wanting him to give the beta hell. "You know what, I actually think he may be better for her anyways."

 

"..Stiles..."

 

"No. I'm serious." Stiles interjected before Scott could continue his thought. "I mean, even you gotta admit; as a human there's just something that I can't really give her...I just want her to be happy."

 

Scott released a deep sigh before clasping his shoulder again, and they drove the rest of the way in silence.

 

 

*******************

 

Later that night in a house not to far from where Stiles fitfully slept, a girl awoke with a gasp. She turned wide eyes to survey her dark room, unknowing of what had awoken her, why her heart pounded so hardly in her chest and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Sitting up slowly, cautiously, she pulled the covers high to her chin and turned her lamp on, the dim light illuminating the room in a soft yellow. She licked dry lips, looking at every corner and shadow, yet saw nothing. After a moment she gave in to the thought that her imagination was just running wild and hesitantly shut her lamp back off, laying back in her bed, closing her eyes. 

 

A few seconds later, though, she heard a eerie, deep and throaty growl, faint, almost too faint to notice. But she did, and her muscles tensed with fear, her chest rising and falling with deep inhale. She kept her eyes clenched, too afraid to open them, though after a few seconds more the urge had become unbearable and she finally jerked them open, her mouth opening at once and letting out a piercing, horrified scream, which was almost immediately cut off to become a garbled distortion. The girls eyes widened, their color milking over while her hair shifted from a deep chestnut brown, until it was bone white. 

 

And then she stopped breathing. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohhhhh the feels during the scene at the beginning lol someone fan me off here I'm overheating


	10. Out With the Old, In With the New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is awoken by his dad who has some bad news which Stiles shares with everything at school. Ryan and Stiles share a moment. Stiles has a conversation with Liam during practice. Later that night Stiles & his dad share a bonding moment.

A loud bang, followed by the sound of John Stilinski shouting out some pretty colorful swear words was what woke Stiles. Groaning, he rolled over to check his alarm clock, which was blinking 4:31 in bright red. Wondering what the hell his dad was doing but too tired to get up he just lay there, staring up at the ceiling and waiting to see if anything else would happen. When yet another crash - followed by a very inappropriate wordplay sounded, Stiles groaned again, this time much louder and more whinny, before finally stumbling out of bed and leaning out of his open door. His father was just heading down the stairs. "Please tell me we are under attack. If not, you had better have a plate full of pancakes and a pot of coffee ready, because there's no way I'll stay awake otherwise for whatever it is that's obviously got you worked up."

 

"No pancakes, Stiles, and you can go back to bed." John sighed, scrubbing a hand over tired eyes. "Work called I have to go out."

 

Stiles frowned. "Everything okay?"

 

Sheriff Stilinski considered telling his son otherwise, hating the idea of getting him dragged into any other mess of this town, but eventually realized that it was a selfish thought. "Another body was found." He finally admitted.

 

Stiles straightened, immediately wide awake. "Oh. Wow. That's...."

 

"It was a girl that went to your school, Stiles." John finished with a sigh.

 

Stiles felt a coldness seep over him and his mind immediately began going over all his friends, all the familiar faces of everyone he knew at school. "Who..who was it?"

 

"A seventeen year old named Jessica Bell. Did you know her?"

 

Stiles fell back against the door in shock, his eyes wide. "Yeah..." He licked his lips. "I mean we weren't really friends or anything...she kind of hung out with the more popular crowd, but I still knew her...." He drifted of, feeling slightly numb.

 

"Ah, shit. I'm sorry son." The Sheriff approached Stiles, pulling him in immediately for a hug, which Stiles gladly accepted.

 

Stiles cleared his throat as his dad pulled away. "So was she...was it the same...."

 

Knowing what he meant the Sheriff nodded, his eyes sympathetic. "Yeah. Hair had turned white and eyes as well."

 

Stiles drew in a breath and nodded, rubbing his hand over his mouth. "Okay, so there definitely is something doing this then..."

 

"As much as I hate to admit it...yeah." And he did hate it. The last thing he wanted was his son drawn into another case. Unfortunately, it seemed to be supernatural, which, as much as he wished otherwise, actually made his son more capable than himself. And he hated that fact more than anything.

 

"Look, Stiles, I have to head out. But I want you to try and put this from your mind. At least for now, okay? You can talk to your friends about it later. Just right now...just try to get some sleep, okay?"

 

Stiles nodded absently. "Yeah, sure, Dad." He turned to head back into his room and paused, looking up at the Sheriff. "Be careful out there, okay?"

 

John Stilinski gave a tight smile and hugged his son one more time. "Love you." He said gruffly. 

 

"Love you to." Stiles said with a slight grin before heading back into his room and sitting on his bed. He stared down at the floor a moment before looking at his phone on his bedside table. He considered texting everyone, but decided that someone, at least, should get some sleep. 

 

Needless to say he didn't get anymore.

 

By the time six-thirty rolled around, which is when he usually awoke to get ready for school, he had already showered and dressed and was so anxious from sitting that he couldn't wait any longer, and after grabbing a to go cup of coffee headed out. His dad had yet to get back home, but his shift actually started at 8AM that day so Stiles figured that he had just decided to stay at the station. 

 

The drive to school was quiet, Stiles not really in the mood to listen to the radio, so he sat there in silence, sipping his coffee while his mind kept playing over all the times he had seen Jessica, and the few times talked to her. He may not have known her that well, but she was dead now and that still affected him. It was almost surreal, and really, that seemed strange, especially seeing as Stiles had been around so much death these past few years. But then again, maybe that was a good sign after all. The day that someone dying no longer affected him...well, he didn't want to think about that.

 

Stiles arrived to school about ten minutes til seven, and seeing as the library was the only part of the school opened at that time, or at least for students, he decided it was better than sitting in his Jeep. Carrying his almost empty styrofoam cup of coffee into the building he gave a nod of greeting to the woman behind the desk and turned a corner to head for the tables and couches, frowning when he spotted Ryan sitting at a table, his head in a book. Ryan glanced up as he approached and grinned immediately.

 

"Stiles? You always get here this early?"

 

Stiles snorted before pulling out a chair across from him and sitting down, propping his feet up on a chair beside Ryan. "Buddy let's just say I've usually hit my alarm clock at least 3 times by now and am still trying to drag my ass out of bed."

 

Ryan laughed, shutting his book, which had been a physics textbook, actually. "Then why are you here now?"

 

Stiles looked up from over his coffee, thinking a moment before finally shrugging. "Just couldn't sleep." He took a sip, enjoying the hotness as it traveled down his throat.

 

"Ah. You too, huh?" Ryan asked with a sympathetic frown and when Stiles shook his head in confusion he laughed. "Insomnia. I've got a mad case that I've not been able to shake off since getting here."

 

Stiles pursed his lips and nodded in acknowledgement. "Not used to the time change yet?"

 

"I guess not. Hopefully I'll get adjusted soon, though. While I may be able to nap in Ms. Keene's class, I'm usually feeling the exhaustion towards the end of the day."

 

"Ah, man that's got to suck. Well I hope it was worth it. Coming here."

 

Ryan sat back with a sigh, thinking a moment before speaking. "It was. Have you ever just gotten so...tired of something? Became so exhausted that you were just ready to...move on?"

 

Stiles looked at him seriously a moment before glancing down at the pristine white desk. "Yeah. I think I know what you're talking about."

 

Ryan nodded across from him, able to see that Stiles really did understand. "Well, that's how it had gotten there. Don't get me wrong. There are people there that I love and whom I miss dearly. But...I just knew it was time. The only thing holding me back, was meself."

 

"Well, I'm glad you decided to come here. Beacon Hills can always use some normal people." 

 

"Normal?" Ryan asked, laughing.

 

Stiles cursed himself inwardly and laughed it off. "Yeah, cause, you know...there's lots of...weird people here...and stuff." 

 

Ryan just frowned at him in amusement. "Well I don't know about you, but I've got to study for this physics test friday."

 

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Oh, God. You're one of  _those_."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"You know. Those annoying people that actually study for test's for days and don't just try to cram it all in the night before." He drew off, pursing his lips. "Or  that morning....or just at the very beginning of class."

 

Ryan was laughing fully now, leaned back in his chair. "And I'm also one of those people with an A average, and I'm pretty sure it's because I  _do_ study."

 

Stiles tsked, waving his hand in the air. "That's just a hypothesis that I'm not ready to accept." And hot damn was it just him or was he  _actually_ flirting with Ryan? Stiles felt his face heat up at the acknowledgement, but shrugged it off. Hey, if someone was interested in him, which Ryan clearly was, why the hell not enjoy it. He had never been one to place labels, anyway. So hell yeah he was all for that.

 

"I have a feeling we are going to be great friends, Mr. Stilinski." Ryan said with a grin.

 

 "I may just have to agree with you Mr. -- Oh crap I forgot your last name." He wondered off sheepishly.

 

"Aherne." Ryan said laughing.

 

Stiles nodded after a moment. "Dude I'm not even gonna attempt to repeat that cause I swear I would totally butcher it."

 

Ryan continued laughing, and Stiles grinned, watching him, glad that he had decided to come early. He had needed a distraction bad and at the moment, he felt pretty damn good.

 

***************************************

 

By the time lunch rolled around, Stiles was forced to come to terms with the gravity of everything that had happened. He met everyone again in the chem room - which, he was actually beginning to agree with Lydia on. They really did need a better meeting place. He guessed he could have held off on telling them until they were at Derek's later, but Stiles figured that it would be best to do this thing ASAP. And honestly, keeping it inside was starting to drive him a little crazy. He entered the room and found that this time he was the last to join, and shut the door behind him. Scott and Kira and Lydia were all seated on the teachers desk, and Liam and Maia were propped against the wall behind them. When Stiles entered they both straightened, and even moved a bit away from each other and Stiles cringed when the both of them refused to look him in the eye. Oh yeah. He had to do something about this. And soon.

 

"There was another one, wasn't there." Lydia asked immediately, her blue eyes wide.

 

Stiles looked at everyone a moment before nodding.

 

"I knew it." She wrapped her arms around herself. "I woke up during the night and felt...off."

 

"It's worse." Stiles said, sitting on a desk. "It was someone from school."

 

They all looked at him with wide eyes.

 

"Who?" Kira was the first to speak.

 

"A girl named Jessica Bell."

 

Lydia sucked in a pained gasp, and Stiles' gut clenched when he realized that she had knew the girl.

 

"We had a few classes together." Lydia said softly, her gaze haunted. "We...we used to be friends. I mean we hadn't spoken since Sophomore year but...."

 

Kira wrapped her arm around Lydia, and Lydia leaned her head on her shoulder.

 

"I'm so sorry." Scott said beside Kira, looking worriedly at Lydia, who just nodded with shut eyes.

 

"This is ridiculous! We should be doing something about it!" Malia stepped forward.

 

"I agree." Liam looked to Scott. "We can't just stay at Derek's loft all night anymore. What if someone else is--"

 

Scott thought a moment before nodding. "You're right. But until we know what this thing is...it's habits and behaviors, I'm not sure if it will do us any good."

 

"So what are we supposed to do then?" Kira asked.

 

Scott shook his head with a sigh. "I will call Chris Argent.Maybe some of his people can start a patrol, now that there has been another killing."

 

"What about us?" Stiles threw up his hands. "What are we supposed to do?"

 

"Right now there isn't much that we can do. Is there any type of pattern to the killings?"

 

"Right now? Not that I can tell." Stiles said. "But I'll start a new board tonight and get on it."

 

Scott nodded and turned to Liam and Malia. "Guys, I know you want to help, so do I. But we have to be smart about this. We don't know what we're dealing with yet. We need to try and find out..something, before we go rushing head first into this."

 

"I just don't want anyone else to die." Lydia whispered, and Kira layed her cheek on her red hair.

 

"So what, just training until we know more?" Stiles asked.

 

Scott nodded. "Yeah, I guess."

 

"Maybe you should get Parrish in on this too, Lydia." Stiles spoke up. "I mean if he isn't working a shift. We know that he's...something....I think right now we could use all the help we could get."

 

Lydia nodded. "Okay. I'll call him." She replied softly.

 

"I have to work a few hours after school." Scott spoke up. "I'll let Deaton know and then join the rest of you guys after my shift."

 

"Speaking of. He have any info on what this thing can be yet?" Scott shook his head with a frown and Stiles sighed. "Well, I hope he finds something soon." He turned to look out the window, where a lot of people were sitting outside eating lunch. "You never know who could be next..."

 

At the end of lunch, when everyone begin's heading out of the room, Stiles grab's a hold of the back of Liam's shirt, and the teenager turns to him with an arched brow. "Yo, gotta talk to you."

 

Scott and Malia pause, and when Stiles nod's his head Scott seems to understand and with a comforting smile usher's Malia out, though she is craning her head looking behind her, a serious frown on her face.

 

"Uh...Stiles...what's up?" Liam visibly figit's and Stiles sighs at the sight. 

 

"Look, I know that you like Malia." Liam's eyes grow so wide Stiles is shocked his eyeballs don't go rolling out to the floor. "Don't freak out! ....It's okay."

 

Liam archs a brow high. "Huh?"

 

Stiles shrug's. "We broke up, man. Whatever we had...it's over now. And if you like her, and she likes you, then you might as well go for it."

 

Liam watched him closely a moment, silent, before slowly speaking. "You think she likes me?"

 

Stiles stared at him dryly before snorting. "Dude...you guys have been totally awkward around each other. People don't do that  _unless_ they like each other." Liam grins, looking somehow sheepish and smug at the same time and Stiles rolls his eyes. "Alright, alright. Don't rub it in."

 

Liam's face turns serious then as he watches Stiles. "I promise I tried not to like her." Stiles rolled his eyes at his words and the younger teen shook his head. "No, I'm serious. I knew she was your girlfriend. I didn't want to be...that guy, you know? I actually tried avoiding her for a while, hoping that my feelings would change. I guess it isn't that easy."

 

Stiles gave a soft smile. Finding that any negative feelings he may have had for the wolf vanished at his words. He gave a serious face this, moving forward. "Yeah well you better be good to her. She's...been through a lot, you know. Just...just treat her right."

 

Liam nodded in understanding. "If I can ever gather the guts to tell her, that is."

 

"Well, Liam, my man. I can't help you there!" He clasped Liam on his back and together they walked out of the chem lab, grinning.

 

*******************************************

 

 

Stiles decided to head home after school to grab a shower first. He had had practice today and rather than using Derek's shower again, figured it was a good idea to just hop in his real quick first and then head to the loft. When he pulled up to his house he saw his dad's cruiser in the drive way and hurried in to find out if he had discovered any new bits of information.

 

Sheriff Stilinski was making a fresh pot of coffee and and taking a bite out of a sandwich when he saw his son enter the house. He gave a sigh of relief, as if the sight of Stiles alive and well was something to be celebrated, and Stiles guessed in this town it was. 

 

"Hey dad, how was work? Find out anything new?"

 

John handed Stiles the other sandwich he had made for himself, and Stiles immediately took a huge bite. "Not much. As of right now we don't have anything connecting the two victims. We've got nothing to go on. But I did bring you some stuff."

 

Stiles arched a brow and watched as his dad picked up a manila envelope from the table. He held it up for Stiles to see before motioning him to follow upstairs. Stiles did so with a frown, following his father into his own bedroom.

 

"I figured it was time to take this down and put up a new one." The Sheriff said, looking at Stiles' board on the wall, where various papers and photos were, as well as his pinned down red thread he used to piece everything together. 

 

Stiles lowered his sandwich in surprise, watching as his dad opened the envelope to show a few gruesome crime scene photos. "Dad..." He said softly. He knew what this meant to his dad. Knew how much John Stilinski just wanted him as far away from all this as possible. The fact that, despite all that, he was still doing this...well, it just proved to Stiles how much his dad respected his own wishes. He put his sandwich on the dresser beside him and promptly moved to smoother his dad in a hug.

 

"Alright now..." Sheriff Stilinski said with a smile, hugging his son back before pulling away. He held his index finger up then, a stern expression on his face. "Just because I'm doing this doesn't mean I'm okay with it." 

 

Stiles smiled softly, patting is dad on the back. "Yeah, I know. Now help me get all this crap off."

 

Sheriff Stilinski laughed and began helping his son clear the board. And with each piece of paper pulled free, each bit of yarn, he couldn't help but feel the Stiles that he had once knew, not too long ago it seemed - the one who had clung to him and whined like a brat whenever he didn't get his way - was slipping away and being replaced with someone older. Wiser. A man.

 

And that thought both horrified, and filled him with pride.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guys, after spending all day doing some serious brainstorming I have come up with a plot twist that I am...veeery excited to breech into. Unfortunately it won't start for some chapters still but...oh you are going to love it lol I know I do. It's going to be a long, chaotic, brilliant, beautiful, gut wrenching ride. Can't frikkin wait yo >_


	11. Day of Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles & Malia talk. Christ Argent tell's Stiles what his main strength is, and how to best use it. Derek comes to terms with the fact that it may not just be the wolf in him that wants Stiles, and can't help but wish he had Peter to talk to. Deaton recieve's a call from his morgue buddy, who has some surprising information to share.

Stiles had just parked on the street outside of Derek's loft when his cell went off. Frowning he dug it out of his pocket and froze when he found a message from Malia. After hesitating nervously, he eventually pulled it up.

 

***You still coming?***

 

Stiles arched a brow and looked up towards the loft. After a moment he decided to text back.  ***Yeah I should be there soon*** He was smart enough to know that Malia was fishing for something. Despite the fact that they had broken up, he still liked to believe that he knew her that much at least. Regardless to say, after about 5 minutes his phone started vibrating again.

 

***Okay. I just didn't know. I know you talked to Liam for some reason today and didn't know if you guys had fought or what***

 

Stiles considered playing dumb, partly wanting to see how long he could draw this out before Malia finally came out and said what was on her mind. Eventually he figured he didn't want to waste any time messing around when he could be training, though, and sent a text back.  ***We didn't fight. Look, I know that he likes you. And I'm pretty sure that you may like him too. I'm not trying to start anything by saying that either. I just told him it was okay.*** Almost immediately after sending his phone vibrated again. 

 

***You told him that it was okay? Stiles I don't NEED your permission to date.***

 

"Oh, my God." Stiles drew out frustrated, leaning his head back against his seat and closing his eyes. This damned woman was going to drive him insane. He hadn't meant it like that in the least bit! Why did she have to be so confrontational at times? Rubbing his eyes wearily he picked up his phone and very carefully began to send a message letting her know that she had misread that, but another came in during and he cringed, almost too scared to see what it would say.

 

***Okay I'm sorry. That was a bitch thing to say I know. I just...I'm still a little upset about everything.***

 

Stiles sighed down at his phone, deleting his message and starting again.  ***I know. So am I. I just really want us to be friends again.*** Because as much as a disaster this was, Malia was his friend. One of his best, actually. So it made this whole situation that much worse.

 

***I do too. I'll try if you try???***

 

Stiles smiled softly.  ***Seem's like a plan. Anyways I'm here now. I'll see you in a bit.*** He finally opened his Jeep door and climbed out, heading up to the loft. He checked the elevator first to see if it was still broken, hense the long ass walk up the stairs the last few times he had come. Luck must have been on his side, though, because the 'Under Maintenance' sign was no longer in place. Stiles gave a sigh of relief and pressed the button, waiting for the doors to open before stepping in. As he moved to lean against the wall he thought about what kind of training he and Derek would be doing today, and suddenly what happened between them yesterday came crashing back. Without thinking Stiles' hand shot out and he practically broke the button to halt the elevator he pressed it so hard. He stood there, his hand still on it, with wide, nervously darting eyes. Oh shit...how the hell could he have forgotten that? Now that he thought about it, though, it was more likely that he had forcefully shoved the awkward situation to the very back of his mind, refusing to revisit or analyze it. And why the hell would he?! Stiles had...he had....holy shit he had gotten a boner yesterday! "Oh, my God." Stiles sucked in deep gulps of air, pacing the very confining space of the elevator and running his hands madly through his hair, which was still damp from his shower and made the ends stick up chaotically. 

 

"Okay, so it's not that big of a deal. I mean, you really haven't had sex in a while." He muttered to himself, still pacing. "That's a normal reaction when someone touches your junk. Which was unintentional, by the way!" He almost shouted. "It doesn't mean anything at all. Just your overactive, crazy teenager hormones.Yeah. Yeah it's fine. Everything's fine. This is going to be...fine...Oh God how am I supposed to look at him again?!" Stiles swung around with a groan, resting his head against the elevator wall. "Maybe he didn't notice." He mumbled frantically to himself. "I mean, he looked like he was kind of in the middle of wolfing out anyways. He couldn't have noticed. Yeah....this is fine. We're good. You're good, Stiles!" He nodded his head encouragingly, hopping around a bit to pump himself up before he pressed the button again, the elevator returning to it's ascent. He continued pacing the whole time, until the elevator jerked to a stop and the doors slid open. He stared out a moment before nodding and leaving the small space, walking around a corner and stopping at Derek's door. He licked his lips nervously, sucking in a deep calming breathe and lifted his fist to knock. Before his fist could even touch wood, though, the door was opening and suddenly Derek was standing in front of him. He had that annoying locked jaw look, but for some reason his eyes were practically shinning in amusement. It was all in the eyebrows. For a brief, horrifying moment, Stiles wondered if Derek had heard him in the elevator, but that thought vanished almost as quickly as it had come. Derek wasn't  _that_ much of a creeper. Though..speaking of.."I'm not even going to remark on how incredibly creepy it is that you knew I was out here."

 

Derek's lips drew up just the slightest as he moved aside. "Obviously I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy unnerving you a bit."

 

Stiles glared at him as he passed. "I knew it!" He whispered.

 

"The other's told me that there's been another killing." Derek moved into step beside Stiles.

 

Stiles glanced up at him before nodding solemnly. "Yeah. A girl from our school, this time."

 

Derek cringed. "Does your dad have any leads yet?"

 

"Not yet but we're working on it."

 

"So are we." Chris Argent said from where he leaned against a wall not to far away, watching over everyone as they trained. "I've got group of my men out patrolling the town now. They'll let me know right away if they hear anything."

 

"Good." Stiles nodded, coming to stand beside him, watching the other's. They were so into their training that no one had noticed him yet. Stiles wasn't the least bit offended. It was what they needed to be doing. Growing stronger. He spotted Parrish in a corner going against Liam almost like they were boxing and smiled softly. Not too far from them Lydia had her hand on a particularly deadly looking crossbow and Stiles cringed as she aimed and shot at Scott, who of course caught it with his hand, his eyes flashing red. On the other side of the room Malia and Kira were doing a deadly dance of combat, Kira swords out and all. Looking at everyone, Stiles felt an overwhelming sense of pride for his friends. They had all come so far to be where they were today. They had all been through so much, and they had been through it together. In that moment he knew that whatever it was that was killing off people in Beacon Hills, they would stop it. Somehow. As long as they were together.

 

"Derek tell's me that you are interested in training as well." Chris glanced down at him and Stiles nodded. "Well come on then. Let's get started."

 

Stiles turned an arched brow to Derek who followed them with a grin, heading up the stairs until they were in the wide open top floor of the loft. Stiles had never been in there before, mostly because it was where Derek slept. There was a large bed in a corner of the room, and a dresser against a wall, and in another corner a punching bag was hanging from the ceiling as well as a few work out gear, but other than that nothing else, and Stiles couldn't help but wonder if the bareness was just because Derek wasn't much of a decorator, or if he had just gotten used to moving around so much that he found it pointless to actually settle down. Make a place a real home. Stiles wasn't sure why, but that thought bothered him. 

 

"Okay, so we know that power isn't really going to be your best bet." Argent said, not even tip toeing around the obvious.

 

Stiles gave him a dead pan stare as he came to stand in front of a large, elaborate window that was shaped as the top half of a circle. The window was one of those that had a stoop built into it, and Chris had a thick black cloth spread out on it, with various weapons lying on top. "Gee, thanks." Stiles muttered, looking at the weapons in awe. 

 

"It's okay, though, because what you lack in strength, you can make up with in speed."

 

"Hmm. I like that. Very ninja like." Stiles said with a grin, turning to look at Derek and finding the older man rolling his eyes as he leaned back against a beam running from floor to ceiling.

 

"Now with speed as your strength, you'll want to use weapons like a crossbow, throwing knives; things that you won't have to get too close to the enemy to utilize. And then, of course, you always have guns."

 

Stiles watched as Chris motioned to each weapon as he spoke. "I've always thought knives were cool." He spoke up, looking at the shinning silver blades. 

 

"Good. I'll teach you how to use them. The crossbow too. As well as a gun. You don't want to be skilled in only one weapon. The more you know, the better chance you have against anything attacking you."

 

Stiles nodded at the logic behind that. 

 

"Even though these weapons will benefit you more, you'll still need a certain level of strength to properly wield them, though."

 

"And that's where I come in." Derek pushed off of the beam, moving towards Stiles. "I'll train you in physically strengthening your body. I'm not going to lie. It's not going to be fun. It's going to be hard, painful work. And lots of it. But with the threat already here we have no other option."

 

 "I get it. I'm down for it, man. I've got to do something."  _I don't want to be an asset to you guys anymore._ He added silently to himself.

Derek smiled then, a true, genuine smile and Stiles couldn't help but feel he hoped he would get to see more of them as they worked together. "Don't worry." Derek placed his hands on his shoulders, and Stiles licked his lips when he felt his stomach flutter nervously at the contact. 

 

"Oh, yeah. Totally not worried." Stiles shrugged, playing off bravado. "In fact, by the time this is done, I'll most likely be able to give your wolf ass a run for it's money."

 

Derek grinned. "We're not performing a miracle here, Stiles." He mocked, turning away.

 

Stiles made a rude gesture behind his back, immediately jerking his hand down when Derek turned an arched brow his way. 

 

"Okay, so why don't we start on the throwing knives, then, since you're particular to them." Chris moved to pick up two unrolled holders of the sharp, shiny knives. He approached Stiles. "You know how to put these on?"

 

Stiles stared down at the thing sheepishly. "Uh...not really."

 

Chris nodded, not the least bit perturbed. "Derek little help?"

 

Stiles arched a brow and watched as Derek came to stand on the other side of him, taking one of the holsters from Chris's hand. He watched with a curious frown as Chris move to kneel on one knee then grabbed ahold of his thigh. "Whoa!" Stiles yelped, jumping slightly.

 

"Stiles this is where they go." Derek said, sounding annoyed, though not looking at him as he kneeled as well. 

 

"I can do it after all!" Stiles drew out hurriedly, stepping away.

 

Chris arched a brow but handed him a holster. Stiles cleared his throat and took it, turning the thing over a moment before wrapping it around his leg. He muttered something under his breath about too many damn straps as he fumbled, and when he had finally pulled away the holster was a tangled mess.

 

Chris stared at him dryly. "Really?"

 

Stiles hung his shoulders and head before taking in a deep inhale. "Okay, fine."

 

Chris rolled his eyes and motioned for Stiles to come forward again, which he did. Though a bit gingerly. While Chris swore under his breath and tried to untangle the mess tiles had made, Derek kneeled beside him, all clenched jawed wearing a familiar blank expression. Stiles didn't mean to jerk when his hands first touch him, but he did. He slowly sucked in a breath, gnawing on his upper lip and staring straight ahead. He felt Derek's hand touch his inner thigh as he wrapped the holster around and tried his best to suppress a shiver, but of freaking course couldn't. Just then Chris tugged particularly hard on a knot Stiles had created in the other holster and Stiles was shoved sideways, his hand going out immediately and holding onto Derek's shoulder to steady himself. He froze. Derek froze. Chris continued cursing. Stiles didn't dare look down, already feeling the tension of the wolf's shoulders under his hand, which he really wanted to move, but couldn't because Chris was still working madly at the other holster, completely oblivious to the chaos he was inducing. And okay, Stiles might as well just admit it, if the two didn't hurry the hell up and move soon they'd both have a boner in their faces. Blood was STEADILY rushing and Stiles was doing his best to direct his thoughts to other things. The fact that he was on the verge of an erection in the first place was sadly not lost on him, and Stiles felt like a virgin all over again, able to get turned on at the slightest touch. Never mind if it were male or female, obviously. "Can we hurry up. Please?" Had he sounded a little antsy? 

 

"Well if you had just let us do it in the first place." Chris grumbled before finally fastening all the buckles and stepping back. Stiles immediately removed his hand from Derek's shoulders as the wolf finished as well, standing, rather stiff, to turn and walk away. 

 

"Okay, the first rule of throwing knives, can you guess what that is?" Chris began immediately, unknowing of Stiles' inner struggle. 

 

"Don't stab yourself?" Stiles drew out.

 

Chris gave him a  dry stare. "Balance. Everything has to be balanced. You and your knives." He drew one of the small black knives from Stiles' holster, twirling it in his fingers. "This particular knife is called a kunai. It's one of the more easier to learn so it will work fine for your first." The blade was attractive, thin and sharp. It was about the length of his hand, and had a small circle at it's base. Chris handed him the blade and he took it, trying out it's weight in his hand a moment, finding that he rather liked holding it. "Now there are a variety of different grips and I'll just tell you the most basic until you get used to it and find something you may like more." He took another of Stiles' blades and held it up to demonstrate. "Some people hold them blade in, while other's blade out. I personally find blade in to be more effective, but for the love of God don't cut yourself." 

 

Stiles snorted, but moved his fingers to hold his own blade the way Chris had showed him. It was a little tricky at first, but after watching the hunter demonstrate again he got it. "Cool. So when do we get to throw them?"

 

"Not so fast. First you have to learn the math of it."

 

Stiles immediately rolled his eyes. "Of course there would be a catch."

 

"Ah, don't worry. You're a smart kid. Now for every three steps, the blade will take half a  rotation."

 

At Stiles frown Chris sighed. "Okay, here." He took six steps away from Stiles. "Say you are the target. If I were to throw this at you, the blade will take one full rotation. So while the tip is pointed towards me at the moment, when thrown, by the time it get's to you, the blade will be turned your way."

 

Stiles nodded, understanding. "Okay, I think I got that part."

 

"Good. Another important thing is stance. Now the longer you work with this, the easier and faster it will be for you to throw, and you'll just move automatically. But for now you'll have to train your mind into moving. Watch me." Chris turned to look at Derek, who was watching them once again, this time leaned against the wall. "May I?"

 

Derek nodded silently and Chris flipped the blade in his hand a moment before taking half a step forward and in one smooth motion throwing the knife, which flashed by Stiles to embed itself deeply into the beam. 

 

Stiles stared at it with wide eyes. "Whoa...okay that's cool."

 

"Another thing you'll need to know is how much power to throw with. How to move your hand to get the knife to actually embed itself. But we will work on that after you've got the basic stance and rotation down."

 

Stiles nodded, licking his lips eagerly. "I'm going to be so badass." He whispered. Chris chuckled across from him, while Derek pushed off of the wall.

 

"I'll go check on the rest." He said, not bothering to look at either of the before heading down the stair. Stiles watched him go in silence, noticing that his shoulders were still stiff and taunt, and wondered if he wasn't the only one having control issues today.

 

*****

 

 

Derek clamored down the steps, his jaw aching from clenching his teeth together so tightly. With some distance between he and Stiles he finally relaxed a bit, drawing in a deep drag of air, the scent of arousal still lingering with him. It was a hot, heady scent that thrilled him more than it probably should. Derek had smelled it just slightly the moment he had opened the door of his loft to let Stiles in, but after they had went upstairs it had steadily began to heighten. And by the time Derek was kneeling at his feet it had practically bombarded Derek, knocking him on his ass. The fact that his hand had been on Stiles, and the boy's hand on him, hadn't seemed to help in the least bit, only making his inner wolf stir that much more. Finally Derek had been unable to take it anymore and had just left. 

 

At this point he wasn't even going to try and deny the fact that the wolf in him wanted Stiles. But the more he was around the hard headed, annoying teenager, he was beginning to realize the more he  _actually_ enjoyed his company. Even the bickering had a certain appeal. 

 

He needed to run. Badly. And as soon as the pack was gone, he planned to do just that. Though Derek doubted it would relieve all of his tension. He entered his kitchen and took out a beer, noticing a few boxes of pizza on the table that the other's must have ordered. He grabbed a slice of meat lovers and took a large bite, drowning it with a Corona. 

 

"Dude...." Scott chose that moment to walk in with an arched brow. He was slightly sweaty from training, and Derek briefly thought to himself how the smell of Scott didn't effect him in the least bit, but when Stiles had come yesterday much the same his wolf had went crazy. This whole Stiles thing just confused the hell out of him.

 

"I know." Derek drew out, shaking his head, knowing that Scott could smell both his and Stiles' arousal. "Just..don't ask."

 

Scott threw his hands up with a grin. "No problem. Although...I'm most likely going to be giving Kira twenty bucks some time or another."

 

Derek frowned at him. "Huh?"

 

"Nothing." Scott replied innocently, grabbing a piece of pizza and swinging around to return to the others, a wide grin on his face.

 

Derek watched him go with a sigh, leaning back against the sink. Even after everything that had happened, and what the man had put them though, he couldn't help but wish Peter were here so he could have someone to talk to about this.... _thing_ that was happening. Because right now? He couldn't be more confused.

 

 

***********************************

 

Deaton pulled a glove off of his hand as his phone began ringing, picking it up and placing it to his ear. "Hutchings. What do you have?"

 

"Well hello to you as well." Hutchings drew out drly on the line, and Deaton heard what he assumed was chewing as his friend, if he could even call him that, ate something. Deaton gave a tired sigh and on the line Hutchings snorted. "Always such a spoil sport. Alright, alright. I've actually got something you may find interesting."

 

Deaton drew straight. "I'm listening.'

 

"Well..." Hutching drew off as he took another chew of something.

 

Deaton rolled his eyes. "Hutchings! This is more important than whatever your doing."

 

"Hey, hey. We've all got to eat. Even me." He finished with an amused chuckle.

 

"I'm just hoping it's a burger you're eating." Deaton said dryly, pushing his sliding chair away from the table where a small lap dog was laying asleep.

 

"Hey I'm all for some cow every now and again."

 

"Only if it's still mooing, though, right?"

 

Hutchings choked on whatever he had been eating before snorting in laughter. "Alright so about the newest body. Everything was almost exactly the same as the first, so the killer is definitely the same."

 

"Almost? Are the insides the same?"

 

"Oh yeah, don't get me wrong. This one's a husk inside as well. But, get this...she's got a little more juice then the other."

 

Deaton frowned in distaste. "Hutchings, in english please."

 

"I'm saying that her internal organs are still shriveled and dry, but nowhere near as much as the last victims."

 

Deaton shook his head, frowning. "What could that mean?"

 

"You want my opinion?"

 

"Always."

 

"Whatever's doing this...isn't  _intentionally_ trying to kill the victims. It's sloppy. It's never done something like this before. It doesn't know what it's doing. Or rather exactly how to do it yet. I think it's feeding off of them, Deaton."

 

"Feeding? Feeding off of what?"

 

"Well they are dried out. My first guess would be blood...fat...But with this newest killing...that may not be so. Whatever is doing this is trying to find out how to do it unnoticed. I don't think it even wants to kill them."

 

Deaton hung his head with a sigh, rubbing his throbbing temple. "I've never seen anything like this before. I don't even know where to begin to catch it."

 

"Well, if you're that hard up on wanting to know, you can always go to  _him_."

 

Deaton was silent a moment before shaking his head. "No. Last time I almost didn't recover."

 

"Well obviously you did."

 

"The benefit's of knowing a banshee."

 

Hutchings snorted on the other line. "Well aren't you all just a colorful bunch."

 

Deaton grinned softly, hearing Hutchings beginning to eat again. "We could always use more color, you know."

 

"Too bad I'm so damned pale." Hutchings remarked, but he knew what Deaton had meant. "Anyways, if all this is true, that is creature is just now learning...then you can be sure there will be more bodies until this thing figures out a design."

 

After a quick goodbye Deaton hung up the phone, staring at the white wall a long moment, lost in thought. The last thing he wanted to do was pay a visit to Eichen House. But it looked like there may be no other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah is it just me or am I a boss at updating? lol
> 
> That can mean 1 of two things.
> 
> 1\. I'm in love with this story and can't stop writing. or
> 
> 2\. I have no life
> 
> ....we're gonna just go with 1 U_U


	12. Midnight Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles goes for a midnight run, trying to exhaust himself in order to fall asleep and realizes that he is being followed, finding evidence the next morning. Ryan & Stiles get paired with an assignment, much to Ryan's joy. Stiles starts his training with Derek.

There had been a time in Stiles life when he had slept like the dead. In fact, sleep had been one of his favorite past times. That and binge watching TV shows and movies, which actually usually lead to sleep, so in a way he could say they went hand in hand. During the time when the Nogitsune had taken over, Stiles had been devoid of many things, sleep being one of them. After those horrific, painful events, it was suffice to say that the ability to sleep an entire night without being plagued by nightmares was laughable. And now, after the events of Mexico, and with the mess that was happening in Beacon Hills, Stiles found himself yet again in a numbing, drifting state of wakefulness. Exhaustion settled on him hard, a plausible weight dragging him down and slowing his mind and body at once. Stiles knew that if he didn't do something about it soon, he would stumble into a state of unawareness, and he did not want to travel that road again. He knew that sooner or later he was going to have to see someone about fixing this issue. What made it even more painful was the fact that he was tired. So incredibly tired. But no matter how long he laid with eyes closed, his brain never ceased to quiet. 

 

Slowly opening his eyes he turned to look at his alarm clock, the flashing glare of 12:24 mocking him. He sat up and let his feet hit the floor, not even releasing a sigh of frustration or weariness. Bending, he began to pull on his shoes before standing and grabbing a hoodie from the back of his computer chair. He looked at his bedroom door a moment, but eventually turned away from it and moved to his window, not wanting to risk waking his father, who seemed even more exhausted than he was. He opened his window and climbed out, his feet hitting the moss covered ground outside of his bedroom with the softest of noises. Stiles turned and looked back through his window before pulling it down once again. Then, pulling his hoodie up he turned and hit the pavement.

 

As he ran, the thought about Scott. How over the past few weeks he had slowly, but surely been growing apart. He thought about he and Malia, and then about Malia and Liam. He thought about Lydia. Sweet, genius Lydia who he used to have the biggest damned crush on, and who more than likely had a thing for Parrish. He thought about his dad, who he loved more than anything in the world, and who just wanted Stiles to be away from all of the darkness in the town. Stiles then shifted his memory to a time just a few years ago, before Scott had been bitten. He remembered how incredibly close they had been. So close that they had basically slept over at each other's houses every day. God he missed those days. He missed childhood. He missed being carefree. ....He missed his mother. God he missed her so much it was almost stiffing. Stiles had only been 8 when she had died, but he could remember things so clearly about her. Like her perfume. He could always smell it on her whenever she would hold him, hug him close. It was soft and warm, like she had been before the sickness took her. To this day, whenever he smelled vanilla his gut clenched painfully. He remembered her sweep of brown hair, and how when she used to lean over to kiss him at night in bed it would fall over her face like a curtain and tickle him. She had been...so incredibly kind and loving. Her touch had been capable of chasing away any fear or sadness. Just her touch alone. 

 

And then she had gotten sick and changed. She had grown confused, lost within her own mind. And at times so angry. Harsh. But the times that had killed Stiles the most, was when she had become hopeless. Seeing her hold such an expression of defeat and despair....Stiles stumbled to a halt, shoving his fist against his mouth and choking back a sob. He bent over, drawing in deep gasps of air, trying to calm his rapid heart beat and the tears that burned his eyes. He felt like there was a hole inside of him, that was steadily being filled with something wretched and vile, and was horrified that it would grow and grow until it swallowed him completely. 

 

Just then a branch snapped just past the pavement and in the woods at his right, and Stiles immediately stiffened, slowly drawing straight and peering into the darkness. It hit him in that second that going out for a midnight run in a town that presently was under attack by an unknown monster had most likely not been the best idea. He licked dry lips, and took a hesitant step back, sucking in a sharp inhale of surprise when he saw a dark shadow dart through the trees. His heart almost stopped at the sight, but he almost immediately recognized it to be just a very large dog and felt relief spill into him, putting his heart back on a more steady rhythm. He squinted against the night, trying to get a better look and moving to rest on one knee. "Hey...come on..I'm not gonna hurt you..." He said softly, lifting a hand towards the woods. 

 

He saw the dark shadow shift behind a tree, and the tale tell sign of ears twitching before glowing blue eyes pierced the darkness.

 

Stiles inhaled softly, the breath trapping within his lungs. He stayed in that same position a moment before slowly returning to his feet, and dragged his gaze from the animal before turning and beginning to jog back to his house. He did not look behind him as he ran, though he knew that the animal was following him. He could feel it in his very bones. When he finally reached his house again he pushed his window open and crawled back through, and as he turned to close it once again, saw the glowing blue gaze yet again in the shadows across the street. Stiles lowered the his hood and met the gaze a few seconds before lowering his blinds and turning away. Pulling his hoodie over his head he kicked off his shoes and fell atop his covers, and was asleep almost instantly.

 

*****************

 

"Dude, did you sleep at all last night?" Scott asked with a frown as Stiles shoved a wrapper of poptarts against his chest that his friend had requested.

 

"I got a few hours." Stiles said defensively as he followed Scott out of his front door and towards his mom's car, which he had borrowed seeing as she had the day off from the hospital. "But thanks for letting me know I look like shit."

 

Scott grinned. "It's what I'm here for."

 

Stiles shoo his head with a laugh, pulling open the passanger side door. Before getting in, though, he glanced back at his house. "Uh, hey wait here a minute." Without further word he jogged over to where his window was, and walked around a bit, looking down at the ground. Scott watched him from over the car with a confused frown as Stiles came running back.

 

"What was that about?"

 

"Uh..I just thought I may have dropped something out the window last night."

 

"Oh." Scott looked at him a bit before giving a questioning shrug.

 

"Oh. Yeah no there's nothing there." Giving a tight lipped grin Stiles climbed into the car and shut the door behind him, glancing at the rearview mirror as Scott pulled away. When his house was no longer in view he turned to Scott. "So, buddy. Best friend. How are you and Kira doing?"

 

Scott perked up instantly at the mention of his girlfriend, and Stiles was able to keep himself from rolling his eyes.

 

"We've got a date tonight, actually." Scott drew off then, frowning. "Well, not really. Liam asked if he could go and I couldn't really say no to him."

 

"Third wheel? Bummer! How uncool." Stiles said with a snort, looking out the window a moment as the houses passed. "Why don't you see if Malia would go too. That way it could be like a double date."

 

Scott jerked his gaze to Stiles, his mouth hung open stupidly a moment before words finally processed. "But..uh..you wouldn't care?"

 

Stiles shrugged. "I'd be a dick if I said otherwise, wouldn't I?"

 

"No. I don't think so." Scott replied softly. "I just...I don't want you to be upset, Stiles."

 

Stiles, knowing his friend would keep the subject going strong until they got to school otherwise he ended it, turned to Scott with a crooked grin. "Hey. I have you know, I am perfectly capable of getting a hot date myself, okay?"

 

The facade seemed to work, because Scott grinned and turned back to the road, shaking his head. "Oh really. Like who?"

 

"I don't know...someone....and someone incredibly attractive, might I add."

 

"Oh, yeah, like the new kid? What's his name, Ryan?"

 

Stiles arched a brow. "Scott! Are you trying to tell me that you find Ryan hot?! I've always known. What will Kira say!"

 

Scott reached over and punched him lightly on his shoulder and Stiles snorted in laughter, his mood actually lightened considerably.

 

"Kira swears that he has a thing for you."

 

"That would be because it's true." Thank-you-very-much, yes he had said that smugly.

 

Scotts eyes grew large. "Are you serous?!" He gave a devious look. "Are you thinking about it?"

 

Stiles reached over to smack his friend in the back of the head, rolling his eyes. Scott just laughed it off, watching the road a moment before shrugging a shoulder all nonchalant like. "I mean, if you were, it wouldn't bother me."

 

Stiles sighed and shot a glance over at him. "Are we really doing this?"

 

"I'm being serious here! You know me, Stiles. I'm your best friend. I mean you've always been a little...curious."

 

Stiles choked as he took a swig from a water bottle he had carried with him. 'What?!" He managed to gasp out.

 

Scott chuckled, but kept his eyes on the road. "Don't act like it's not true. Hell, Stiles, when we were thirteen you kissed me!"

 

Stiles immediately swung around to him with wide eyes, holding up a hand. "Hey. Hey! You  _swore_ to never speak of that again. We made a vow, man!"

 

"Yeah, yeah I know. And I've never said anything about it until now. I'm just saying...if someone likes you, rather they're male or female, and if you think you could possibly like them back, I say go for it."

 

Stiles groaned, laying his face in his hand. "Why do I feel like you're my dad giving me permission to date whoever I want?"

 

Scott turned a sickening sweet smile to him. "I just want you to be happy, Stiles." He said in a sing song voice.

 

"Oh my God I'm going to jump out of this car I swear." Stiles bit out, though he was grinning, and kept grinning until they pulled into the parking lot and entered the school.

 

***********************************

 

As light and humerus as the conversation with Scott that morning had seemed, his best friends words had stuck with him, and he kept going over Scott's words as he slid into his desk during Ms. Keene's history class. When Ryan entered the room and grinned at him, Stiles could not help the faint blush that creeped across his cheeks. He wouldn't lie. He liked Ryan's attention. More than that, Ryan made him feel happy and child like, and had actually been a pretty awesome distraction against the serious issues of late. If there was any guy that was crushing on him, Stiles guessed he couldn't do much better than Ryan. And let's be honest. How freaking dreamy was that Irish accent?? So when Ms. Keene announced that they had an assignment due by the end of next week on the Bubonic Plague and that everyone had to split up into groups of two, Stiles may have been quick to ask Ryan, before anyone else snagged him. Almost immediately after he had felt bad, though, remembering that Malia was in the class as well, but after glancing behind him he had seen that she was laughing merrily with another girl and had shrugged it off. 

 

Ryan, on the other hand, couldn't contain his excitement about working with Stiles. By the time class had ended they had already set up a study date for tomorrow after school in the library, and yeah, Stiles may or may not have thought that the other guys obvious glee had been kind of...adorable? They had exchanged numbers and before Stiles had even walked out of the room his phone was vibrating. After checking the unknown number with a frown he couldn't help but snort when he had found a simple hello message from Ryan, who had actually been right behind him.

 

"Just making sure it's the right number." Ryan had said with a grin, and Stiles had practically shoved him away, unable to contain his laughter. It was actually a little embarrassing how hard core the guy was flirting with him.

 

The rest of the school day had passed unusually fast. After having lunch outside with everyone (and even offering Ryan a seat at their table much to everyone elses surprise, well, maybe except for Scotts), and finding out that he had Aced his math test, Stiles was back in his Jeep, a grin on his face as he drove home to shower before heading to Derek's.

 

He had decided to just keep doing so out of habit. He really didn't like bothering Derek anymore than he had to, anyways. And it just felt more comfortable to grab a quick shower in his own house. After pulling on a pair of light weight grey board shorts and a grey and white stripped hoodie, Stiles was back out the door and hitting the road. After reaching the loft and stepping out of the elevator Stiles wasn't surprised when Derek opened his door before Stiles could even knock. 

 

"Creeper!" Stiles called in greeting, passing by him with a grin. "How's it going?"

 

Derek frowned sternly at him, watching him pass before shutting the door. "You seem awfully happy today."

 

Stiles scoffed. "Am I not allowed to be?" 

 

Derek arched a brow before finally shrugging. "I guess so..."

 

Stiles was apparently satisfied with that answer because he bobbed his head with a grin and entered the living room, frowning when he found that it was empty. "Where is everyone?"

 

Derek came to stop behind him. "I thought you knew? Scott, Kira, Liam and Malia went out. And as for Lydia I have no idea."

 

Stiles' grin fell slowly. "Oh yeah, I kind of forgot." He muttered, looking around. "Uh, and Chris?"

 

Derek shrugged a muscled shoulder. "He's out hunting with the other's tonight. It's my turn to train you tonight, anyways." As Stiles nodded in silence, running a hand through his hair Derek gave a slow, wicked grin. "Why? Not nervous about being here alone with me are you?"

 

Stiles twisted with a mock gasp. "What?! You...Ha! Of course I'm...." He drew off with a glare, realizing it was pointless to try and lie seeing as the wolf already knew anyways. "Oh shut up and let's just do this."

 

Derek shook his head with a grin, turning to head up the stairs. "Come on, Stiles."

 

"Come on, Stiles." Stiles mocked him silently as he begrudgingly followed Derek up to the top floor of the loft. "You could murder me up and no one would know." He muttered to himself.

 

"Well make sure you don't do anything to piss me off." Derek called over his shoulder.

 

Stiles glared at his back. "Don't you know that's impossible." He didn't bother trying to hide is words, and watched as Derek's shoulders shook in laughter. 

 

"Alright, we're going to start you out on the punching bag today."

 

"Oh yay. In other words I get to look badass today." Stiles skipped over to stand near Derek, who was picking up some cloth stips from a table beside the bed. "What's that for?"

 

"We have to bind your hands so you don't break the skin of your knuckles."

 

Stiles pursed his lips in distaste. "Gross. But okay, I guess."

 

Derek cut his gaze up at Stiles' as he was gathering his stuff. "You're going to want to take the hoodie off."

 

Stiles froze, frowning. "What? Why?"

 

"Because you're going to end up sweating. A lot." Derek muttered the last part so low it was almost inaudible to Stiles.

 

"I think I'll be fine." Stiles drew out in a slightly whinny voice.

 

"Stiles just take the damned hoddie off!" The wolf bit out.

 

Stiles sucked in an annoyed breath. "I can't!" He finally drew out.

 

Derek sighed and turned equally annoyed eyes to him. "And why not, exactly?"

 

"Because I'm not wearing anything under it!" Stiles hissed out.

 

Derek's brows did that annoying rising thing as his deep green eyes lowered to look at Stiles' chest. Stiles couldn't help but cross his arms over himself. Without a word Derek turned and stalked over to his dresser across the room, pulling open a drawer and grabbing something. He stomped back over to Stiles and threw a dark grey henley at him. "Here. Put it on."

 

Stiles caught the shirt and stared down at it with an open mouth. "Uh..I dunno..I mean people say you should never--"

 

"Stiles!"

 

Stiles jumped. "Oh my--Okay! Fine. Jeez." He glared at Derek before turning and heading for the stairs.

 

"What are you doing?" 

 

He turned to Derek with a frown. "Uh...going to change?"

 

Derek stared at him dryly. "Are you serious?"

 

"Yes!" Stiles cried in frustration.

 

The two glared at each other a moment, Derek sucking in deep, calming breaths.

 

"Stiles, just put the damned shirt on now. It's not like you've got something I've never seen."

 

Stiles scoffed, holding his finger up to say something incredibly witty that would get the wolf off of his case, but discovered that he actually had nothing.

 

"I swear if you do not hurry the hell up.." Derek had begun to growl.

 

"No way in hell!" Stiles bit out.

 

"Why?!"

 

"Because...because of all of that!" Stiles cried, waving his hand in front of him towards Derek, who was just shaking his head with a frustrated frown.

 

"What?"

 

Stiles groaned, rolling his eyes. "You really think I'm going to take my shirt off around a guy that looks like freaking Adonis?! You're insane!"

 

Derek tried not to feel too cocky from that comment but apparently couldn't help the smug grin that played across his lips because Stiles groaned again.

 

"See! That's what I'm talking about."

 

"Stiles I'm not going to make fun of you if that's what you're worried about." Derek drew out, more softly. After a brief pause though he turned slightly glowing blue eyes back to Stiles. "But I swear to God if you do not get that shirt on now I'm going to hurt you."

 

Stiles sucked in a huff of indignation before turning his back to Derek, tossing the Henley to his bed. He gritted his teeth and quickly pulled his hoodie over his head, which ended up being a bit of a disaster, because it kind of got stuck on his head during the come off and Stiles swore loudly as he finally jerked it free. He could already feel the heat scorching up the back of his neck by the time he reached down and grabbed Derek's shirt. He quickly made to put it on, realizing half way that it was backwards and almost screamed as he turned it the right way and pulled it over his head. He was in the middle of pushing his first arm through when Derek moved to stand beside him, returning to the table holding the cloth strips. Stiles turned slightly at his approach and Derek glanced over at him, his eyes immediately lowering to his chest, which was still partly bare, and then lower to his stomach and hips, and once he got there his gaze froze, his eyes widening slightly.

 

"Stiles what the hell is that?!"

 

Stiles immediately felt the rest of his body shoot blood red and quickly jerked around. "Nothing!" He shouted a little too loudly, hurriedly shoving his arms through the shirt. When he turned around Derek was directly behind him, and he sucked in a gasp of surprise before the man pushed him back against a beam in the center of the room and jerked his shirt up.

 

"Hey!" Stiles grabbed his hands and tried to push them away but of course it was a lost cause.

 

Derek's mouth dropped in shock and he blinked in obvious disbelief. Stiles had a tattoo?! It was script; beautifully written out in what looked to be latin. But it was the placement that had Derek's breath catching in his throat. Stiles was thin, Derek had always known that, but he was also built with sleek, tight muscles. And the tattoo was placed on one side of his body, following the curve of his hip bone and vanishing down into his shorts. The urge to grab a hold of his shorts and jerk them down to see just how far the tattoo went was overwhelming. "When--" Derek realized he was nearly growling and sucked in a deep, calming breath. "When did this happen?"

 

Stiles stared up at the ceiling, sucking in deep breaths. "What you and Scotty are allowed to have a tattoo but I'm not?"

 

Derek's gaze shot to his then, well, not really, considering Stiles' was still staring upwards. "Scott doesn't know about this?"

 

Stiles shook his head silently. Taking a hard gulp, his adam's apple bobbing.

 

Derek watched the motion, almost entranced, the first scent of arousal drifting off of Stiles and making him drag in a deep inhale. "Does Malia?"Derek all but growled it out. Stiles shook his head again. He had just gotten it recently then? The fact that Scott and Malia didn't know about the tattoo somehow made him feel...very possessive. Mainly the fact that  _he_ was the only one that actually knew about it. Derek looked back down at it, this time his eyes tracing the lines of his sculpted hipbones, his mouth opening again in a silent exhale when he noticed that Stiles was beginning to grow hard, his erection just starting to show against his shorts.

 

"Derek." Stiles drew out hoarsely, the first sign of panic evident in his voice.

 

Derek, who wanted to do nothing more than suddenly rub his face all over Stiles, drag his beard all over the boys soft cheeks and neck, marking him with his scent, eventually released his hold of his shirt, and with a clenched jaw stepped back. 

 

Stiles stumbled away immediately, visibly shaken, his eyes darting everywhere but on Derek. He held his hand up, looking like he was struggling for words a moment, before finally just clenching his hand into a fist and turning away to walk hurriedly down the stairs. Derek did not follow him, but stayed rooted to the spot, forcing himself to not move, jerking in deep, ragged breaths, until he heard Stiles slam the door to his loft, and then enter the elevator. Still he did not move. Not until his wolf hearing picked up on Stiles climbing in his Jeep, starting it up, and speeding away.

Only then did he finally allow himself to move. Stumbling to fall back to a sit on his bed, staring at the floor. A complete and utter mess.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to let you guys know that Ima change a bit of the last chapter. Not a lot, and not so much that you will have to read it over. I'm just not 100% satisfied with the last bit concerning Deaton & Hutchings convo. It seems a bit sloppy, and I'd like to take a little more time to better polish it. Again, you don't have to reread it. But I will be doing that sometime in the AM.
> 
> Thank you guys so much for all the comments so far. It makes me feel so awesome to know that people enjoy the story so much. I hope you stick with me till the end <3
> 
> AND OMGAWD talk about heart pains :'( I hate sad Stiles
> 
> And ohhh jeez!! lol you guys can't imagine the squeels I was inducing in myself with the part with Stiles & his tattoo hahaha my poor catS most likely thinks me crazy while I was rolling around in my computer chair fanning myself and muttering 'this is too much, this is too much' haha
> 
> .....
> 
> ........
> 
> I'm noting something very sad in that last sentence U_U
> 
> I'm going to die alone...surrounded by cats >_


	13. Double-Edged Sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Malia find a new meeting place at school. Stiles invites Ryan to a get together, pressured by the rest of the pack.

Kid, you look like hell." John Stilinski eyed Stiles from over his cup of coffee, following his son's zombie like movements around the kitchen. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

 

 

 

"Dad I'm a teenager. When do we ever sleep." Stiles muttered, passing it off lightly before pulling a mug from the cabinet and beginning to make a cup of coffee for himself. 

 

 

 

"That doesn't mean I'm okay with it." His dad frowned down at him, silent a moment before clearing his throat. "So, you got big plans with your friends this weekend?"

 

 

 

Stiles arched a brow at him, taking a sip from his coffee. "Uh...not that I know of. Besides, I don't think it's the best time to be relaxing when there's something killing people in Beacon Hills."

 

 

 

Sheriff Stilinski's gaze darted from his son to his coffee, and back and forth once again as if he were contemplating saying something, only unsure if he should. "You know it's been a while since we've had a family night.'

 

 

 

Stiles' tried not to snort at the word. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

 

 

 

John finally gave in with a sigh, laying his cup on the counter. "Look, Stiles, I know that with everything that's been going on you guys are pretty busy but...." He actually managed to look nervous. "I just feel like you haven't just sat around and done... _nothing_ \- in ages. What do you say we have a movie night this weekend, like we used to? You're pick. And I'll watch whatever, I swear!"

 

 

Stiles heard the desperation in his father's voice that John was trying to hard to hide. It struck him then just how scared his dad really was. Not scared about the killings exactly,  just scared of losing Stiles to...all of this. Stiles felt his heart ache and knew that he could not deny the man. "Yeah, that sounds great dad. And your right, you know? A relaxing night in will do us good."

 

 

John nodded with a grin, pleased with himself. "Alright. It's a deal then. Well, I'm going to hit the hay. My shift starts at 5PM today. What about you? What are your plans for the day?"

 

 

"We'll I've got a study date at the library after school but after that I was thinking of just staying home, actually."

 

 

John seemed even more pleased to hear that and patted his son on the back. "Good! Why don't you invite Scott over or something. You guys can just be regular teenagers for once and make a mess of the house and order in pizza."

 

 

Stiles smiled softly. "Yeah. Maybe. Anyways, I'm heading out. I'll talk to you later, Dad, okay?"

 

 

"Have a good day, kid." The Sheriff called as Stiles grabbed his backpack at the bottom of the stairs and, with a wave, headed out the door.

 

 

He hopped in his Jeep, staring down at the steering wheel a moment before starting his engine and pulling out of the driveway. His phone started vibrating a second later and after fishing it from his pocket he found a text from Scott.

 

***Hey, can we all meet at the Chem lab during lunch again, there's something we need to talk about.***

 

Stiles sent a quick reply before focusing all of his attention once again to the road. Well, that wasn't necessarily true. His eyes may have been on the road, but his mind was elsewhere. Mainly going over what had happened at Derek's loft last night. Stiles felt his face grow hot at the memory and began to gnaw on his thumb nail. He didn't much care that Derek had discovered the tattoo he had gotten not too long after coming back from Mexico. The fact that Scott and Malia didn't know about it yet actually wasn't such a big deal, he just hadn't gotten around to telling them. Okay, well, maybe the fact that Malia didn't know was  _sort_  of a big deal. They had, after all, just broken up a few days ago. So it was blatantly obvious just how bad their relationship had gotten towards the end. Stiles couldn't help but snort at the memory of how angry Malia had been when he had brushed her off that night of the party. No wonder, really. They hadn't had sex once since Mexico. Hell she was most likely as frustrated as he was. Which brought Stiles to the main reason he really, really did not want to see Derek Hale again. Ever. 

 

 

Stiles wasn't dumb. He knew that Derek had been able to smell his arousal. He also knew that the wolf had most likely seen it through his shorts. 

 

 

Stiles couldn't help it. He released a groan of horror, really wanting to slam his head against the steering wheel a few times. What the hell must Derek think of him? Was he grossed out? Had it even bothered him at all? With the whole heightened senses, Stiles figured that you were going to come into contact with those kind of things quite often. Maybe...maybe it hadn't really been such a big deal to Derek because he was used to it?

 

 

Stiles was about 95% certain that he had only gotten aroused in the first place because the damned wolf was touching him, yet again, and staring at him with that creeper, hungry dog look that had always unnerved him. 

 

 

it wasn't like Derek  _himself_  was the one turning him on. It was just the contact. Which Stiles had clearly been devoid of the past few weeks. And everyone knew Derek could get pretty touchy. Though it may be when he's pushing Stiles up against a wall or threatening bodily harm; it was touching none the less!

 

 

Anyways, it didn't really matter. Stiles wasn't going to be going back to the loft anytime soon. And as for his training? Well he could just set up times where he and Chris could meet to continue. He highly doubted the hunter would have an issue with that. It wasn't like the man wanted to hang out in a werewolf's territory. Or at least he'd think not.  That really couldn't be setting a good example to his men. In fact. Stiles pulled out his phone, and trying not to kill himself from texting while driving decided to use his voice texting. "Hey Chris this is Stiles. Do you think that we could train at your place tonight?" Waiting to make sure that it had gotten everything he said and not exchanged a few words as well Stiles sent the message, laying his phone in the passenger seat and feeling very happy with himself. He turned on the radio and sang along to Brendon Urie, smiling the whole way to school.

 

 

By the time he entered his first class and Chris still hadn't messaged him, his good mood had fallen. Just a bit though. The man was a busy guy. It wasn't like he sat around staring at his phone all day waiting for someone to call or text him. Stiles remembered a when he and Lydia had first became real friends, and they had exchanged numbers. He must have stared at his phone for hours after getting out of school, hopeful that she would text him. In the end he had always ended up texting her some random message about school assignments, or the crazy stuff they had started going through once Scott was turned. It had been a very pathetic attempt at wanting to grow closer to her. And her had, really. Though they had never actually dated, he and Lydia were tight. And while his love for her may have changed to just friendship, he still considered her an important part of his life. They all were. Even the ones that weren't with them anymore...

 

Even Derek freaking Hale.

 

 

"Hey, Stiles!"

 

 

Stiles turned at the hushed whisper beside him and found Ryan leaned over with a mischievous grin on his face and couldn't help but smile.

 

 

"What's going on, Ryan?"

 

 

"We're still on for tonight, right?" 

 

 

"Our study date? Yeah, of course!" He grinned in acknowledgement.

 

 

A certain gleam came to Ryan's eyes and his grin turned flirty right away. "Date? Glad we're on the same page."

 

 

Stiles' stared at him silently a moment before blurting out a loud 'What?!"

 

 

"Mr. Stilinski!" Ms. Keene bit out and Stiles swung around, his hands fumbling on his desk, making a few papers go flying. He felt himself begin to blush as he awkwardly gathered the papers. "Is there something you would like to share with the class?"

 

 

"Nuh-huh." Stiles shook his head in short jerky motions before slouching down low in his seat, clearing his throat. "Um..yeah sorry....continue..."

 

 

Ms. Keene gave an annoyed sigh before returning to talking about something incredibly boring again. Stiles couldn't help it, he glanced  behind him and found Malia watching him with a stern frown. "Oh, God.." Running a hand through his hair he laid his cheek in his hand and tried to pay attention, though with how slowly Ms. Keene spoke, and in that same monotone voice, Stiles couldn't help the few times that his head nodded downwards, sleep tugging at him hard. The course subject wasn't helping in the least bit. He had read about the Bubonic Plague himself years ago, so everything that they were going over was just repeated information, and Stiles did not do good with repeated information. He needed something interesting and new to keep his ADHD at bay, so it was most likely inevitable when Stiles fell asleep.

 

 

Well, he didn't know he was asleep exactly, the dream started out with him sitting in his desk at school, though Ms. Keene's voice had somehow changed to grow even more drown and slow. Stiles allowed his eyes to close, leaning back in his chair, though as he went backwards the chair, now gone, had not stopped him and he kept falling back, until landing on the soft mattress of his own bed. Stiles felt the cold sheet under his hands, his fingers splaying out on it's surface with a sigh of content. He lay there in peace a moment, his eyes shut, until his facial features began to change, his brows drawing down in confusion. Something was not right. He could feel it. Sense it all around him. What was it? The small hairs on his body began to stand on end, and a cold shiver washed over him. His chest began to rise and fall in quick motions as he sucked in air harshly though his nose, something in the back of his head whispering  _Whatever you do...don't open your eyes..._  


 

 

He opened his eyes. And started screaming. And did not stop.

 

 

"Hey, Stiles! Stiles, wake up!"

 

Stiles jerked away from the hands on him, and would have fallen from his desk had Ryan not grabbed a hold of his shoulders and steadied him. He saw Malia standing over him, her brow furrowed in worry. Everyone was quiet, even Ms. Keene, and staring at him with wide, confused eyes. Stiles felt embarrassment wash over him and lowered his head, his hands beginning to shake.

 

 

"Come on. We're leaving." Malia said suddenly, grabbing ahold of his arm and lifting him. Stiles did not fight her, just clenched his teeth and kept his eyes straight ahead, trying his best to not let his chaotic emotions show. Not in front of everyone. She ushered him out of the door, and Ms. Keene didn't say a word of objection. Apparently she was too freaked out. Malia lead him down the hall and to the steps. She kept going up still once they reached the second level of the school, heading towards the attic area, only stopping when they were in front of the door. 

 

 

Stiles sat with a sigh, leaning back against the stair railing and running his hand over his face.

 

 

"Are you okay?"

 

 

He nodded in silence before looking up at Malia with a weak smile. "Thank you."

 

 

Malia just nodded, finally moving to sit beside him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

 

 

Stiles sighed."It wasn't what you think. I mean, it was a nightmare, obviously." He snorted. "But it wasn't about...." He drew off, casting a quick glance to his hands, trying not to be too obvious about counting the digits.

 

 

"What was it about, then?"

 

 

"Honestly, I don't even know. I don't remember. I mean, I remember there being.... _something_  . Something evil. I just...I don't remember what." He turned to her with a sigh. "I'm sorry. I know you must have thought the days of reigning in my nightmares were over."

 

 

"Stiles you're my friend. You don't have to apologize. Just because we aren't dating anymore doesn't mean I don't want you to be okay."

 

 

Stiles smiled softly at her. "Thank you. I was still a little scared that we wouldn't be able to go back to how things had been."

 

 

"Yeah....so was I." She admitted. "But we can't let that happen, okay? No matter what."

 

 

Stiles looked at her a moment before nodding, his smile a little more firm. "Okay." Sighing, he scrubbed his hands over his face. "Great. Now everyone's going to think I'm a total freak."

 

 

Malia elbowed him gently. "Pretty sure they already think that." She teased.

 

 

Stiles laughed with her.

 

 

"You going to go home?"

 

 

"Nah. I have to meet Ryan after school to study." He muttered before pulling himself to his feet. "Otherwise I totally would."

 

 

"I have an idea." Malia turned to the attic door, which is always locked, and with a quick snap of her wrist on the handle broke the lock and pushed the door open. 

 

 

"Malia!" Stiles jerked his head over the stairs to look below. "What if someone sees'."

 

 

"No one ever comes up here. Now come on. Get in. We can play hookie all day."

 

 

Stiles grinned at her. "You do realize that playing hookie usually entails actually leaving the school?"

 

 

"Just shut up and get in. I'll go get some junk food from the vending machines." Waving Stiles in with a devious grin she turned and skipped down the stairs.

 

 

Stiles watched her go with a soft smile before shrugging and heading into the attic. It was true anyways. No one ever went up here. Might as well make use for it.

 

 

By the time lunch rolled around he and Malia had sent text's to everyone, telling them to come up to the attic to meet. Lydia was the first one to enter, looking around with obvious distaste. "Why are we in this dirty place?" She immediately huffed to Stiles.

 

 

"Because Malia already broke the lock, and it's more private than the Chem Lab."

 

 

Lydia pursed her lips but didn't say anything else, finding a desk to sit on. After brushing it off of course.

 

 

Scott, Kira and Liam showed up soon after, Liam's gaze immediately moving to Malia who actually smiled shyly at him. Stiles tried to pretend she had ever smiled at him like that.

 

 

"Cool meet up place." Kira said, looking around with a grin, her arm around Scott's waste.

 

 

"See, Lydia, someone like the new headquarters." Stiles shot a grin her way and the red headed girl just rolled her eyes with a sigh.

 

 

"Malia told me you had an episode in class." Scott approached Stiles.

 

 

Stiles rolled his eyes at the word 'episode'. "Dude it was just a dream. I'm fine. I decided to play hookie after and have been trying to clean this place a little so it won't be so...attic-y."

 

 

Scott looked at him a moment, seemingly considering if he should just let the issue lie or not, but eventually decided to do the first. "Alright. Yeah, I like this place. Aren't you guys worried about getting caught, though?"

 

 

"Not really. No one ever comes up here. Hell I think most of the stuff up here has at least a years worth of dust on it. i think we should be fine." Stiles clasped his hands together and looked at Scott. "So what's up? Did someone find out something about our newest monster?"

 

 

Scott and the rest of the pact shared a look, making Stiles frown. "Not exactly, more like a ...hunch...."

 

 

Stiles shook his head, waiting.

 

 

"It's just that with this new monster in town I just think that we need to be careful, you know? Be on guard...."

 

 

"Yeah, I totally agree."

 

 

"The thing is we're all just beginning to wonder if there could be a connection before this thing showing up and...someone else showing up."

 

 

It took Stiles a moment before it struck him. "You think Ryan is the monster!" He drew out in disbelief. "Dude...."

 

 

"We're not saying he is, just that, it's kind of weird that when he shows up the killings start." Kira gave a hesitant shrug. "I mean even you have to admit the weirdness of it."

 

 

"Well, I've only met the guy once, but I say anyone who looks and sounds that good and is attracted to Stiles has to be evil." Lydia said in that no-nonsense way of hers.

 

 

"Wow! OKay, that didn't hurt!" Stiles scoffed at her. "And while I may not be some cover model I'm not hideous, thank you very much!"

 

 

"None of that matters!" Scott huffed, beginning to get annoyed. "Right now, he's the closest possible suspect."

 

 

"So what am I supposed to do?" Stiles swung around to Scott. "I mean we were supposed to study in the library after school today! We have an assignment together I can't exactly blow him off."

 

 

"Actually we want you to do the opposite." Malia shrugged. "Watch him."

 

 

"Watch him?" Stiles repeated, deadpan.

 

 

"Even more so, why don't we invite him to Derek's loft one night? I mean all of these kilings are happening at night, right? If he's with us we'll be able to keep an eye on him, at least. See if anything happens." Kira offered to Scott.

 

 

"I don't think that's a good idea." Stiles muttered.

 

 

"No, I think it's a great idea." Scott grinned down at Kira like the was the most incredible person alive.

 

 

"Guys, I really don't think Derek Hale will want some random teenager invading his space!" Stiles threw out.

 

 

"If he know's why I'm sure he'll agree." Liam chimed in.

 

 

"Oh, my God!!!!" Stiles sucked in a deep, calming breath, looking like he really wanted to hit something. "I don't think this is a good idea, guys."

 

 

"I'm sorry, Stiles...it's all we got right now." Scott frowned at him, clearly not understanding his best friends plight. 

 

 

Stiles groaned loudly, finally throwing up his hands. "Fine. I'll...ask him if he can hang sometime this weekend." Well, so much for family time with his dad. Stiles had a feeling that Sheriff Stilinski would be very disappointed. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

***************************************************

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Hey, I brought snacks!"

 

 

Stiles looked up from his text book to see Ryan unzipping his bookbag and pulling out two can's of coke and a crap load of junk food that he had gotten from the vending machine. 

 

 

"Oh, sweet!" Stiles grabbed one of the cokes and opened it, taking a swig.

 

 

Ryan grinned at him as he took a seat across from Stiles. "I wasn't sure if you liked coke."

 

 

"Are you kidding? I'm a teenager. I like anything with caffeine that's not good for you." He scoffed, grabbing a tablet and pen from his bookbag. "Now do you know anything about the Bubonic Plague?"

 

 

Ryan frowned as he thought. "Just that rats caused it, right?"

 

 

"Actually it was the flee's on the rats. And actually they just came out that it started with a hamster brought from japan and not rats....but that's not in the text book yet." Stiles grinned. "So flee bitten rat's it is!"

 

 

Ryan chuckled. "How do you know all this stuff."

 

 

"Dude, while ADHD is annoying as hell, it also mean's I spend a fairly large amount of time googling random stuff. I'ts a double-edged sword."

 

 

"Make's me wonder what all you've got stored in that brain of yours." Ryan teased.

 

 

Stiles scoffed softly. "Believe me, buddy, you wouldn't wanna go looking around in there."

 

 

They were silent a moment, jotting down notes from their text book before Ryan spoke up again. "So what happened today in class....."

 

 

Stiles looked up hesitantly, licking his lips. "Uh, yeah. I have nightmares sometimes. It's not that big a deal. And they've gotten a lot better, actually."

 

 

Silence, again.

 

 

"What are they about?"

 

 

Stiles cleared his throat and leaned back against the chair, looking at a book shelf to his left. "You know. Just normal, stupid stuff."

 

 

 

"Well it obvious is something important to you. I mean the way you looked today...."

 

 

Stiles glanced around the library, which was mostly empty save for another group of people at the very front. "Yeah I can only imagine what people were saying after that."

 

 

"Alot were just worried." Ryan said softly. "I know I was."

 

 

Stiles looked up at him, their gazes locking a moment before he drew his gaze away with a shrug. "Well it's all good now. Nothing to worry about. Now let's start on this stupid assignment and try to make it somehow less boring than Ms. Keene herself."

 

 

The other boy grinned. "I'm not sure if that's possible."

 

 

Stiles looked up at Ryan and laughed, throwing out a finger gun in amusement.

 

 

After about an hour and a half they had a good two pages of notes each, and Stiles had gone through his whole coke, a pack skittles, M&M's and a snicker's bar, and pretty much felt like he could slip off into a diabetic coma at any time. "Oh, my God my brain hurts." He moaned, stuffing his books back in his bag.

 

 

"Well at least we got a lot done. If we're lucky we could finish early."

 

 

"But then we wouldn't be able to meet up. And I wouldn't get candy anymore." Stiles whined, making Ryan laugh. 

 

 

"We don't need a reason like school to hang out, do we?"

 

 

"Guess you're right." Stiles stood, slinging his bookbag across one shoulder, he paused, staring down at the ground awkwardly a moment. "So, uh, about that. Me and some people meet up to watch movies and order in pizza some weekends. Would you wanna go?"

 

 

Ryan smiled. "Well, that's not exactly asking me on a date, but I guess I'll take what I can get."

 

 

Stiles stumbled on the chair as he made his way around, nearly busting his face. "You  _have_ to stop doing that!" He drew out, his face hot.

 

 

"But it gets such an hilarious reaction." Ryan snorted in amusement.

 

 

Stiles scoffed again. 'Well if I'm dead you'll never get to go on a date with me."

 

 

Ryan arched his brows in slight surprise, grinning. "Wait, does that mean.."

 

 

"I didn't mean it like---Oh my God just shut up. I have to go." Stiles glared at him as he passed, heading for the door. 

 

 

"See you tomorrow, Stiles!" Ryan called behind him, laughing.

 

 

Stiles threw up his hand, still too frustrated to speak, and left the library.

 

 

As he got in his jeep and drove away, he couldn't help but feel both disappointed and glad that Ryan had agreed to the meet up. Ryan was a great guy. Stiles considered him a friend, even though they had only met a few days ago. He just had a really bad feeling about bringing him to Derek's. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gahhh ryan is so adorbs lol really think the meet up at Derek's is going to be a disaster though!!


	14. Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is followed once again during a late night run, this time coming face to face with a brooding werewolf who just won't shut up.

It was midnight exactly when Stiles could no longer stand the screaming silence of the house. At least when Malia had been there, she had always filled the hall with her frequently obnoxious and loud behavior. Not that he or his father had really minded. They understood that Malia was not quite...well versed on proper manners (seeing as how she had spent most of her life in coyote form), but even more so, it had been nice at times to have someone lively in the home. Claudia Stilinski had been full of life, and had wanted everyone to know. Not in an annoying way, but more so almost as if she had been bursting open with energy and...love. So much love. After her death the Stilinski house had fallen into a quiet, surreal calm. One that often drove Stiles crazy, which is why many night's he would have Scott over when his dad was working. Now that they were growing more apart, Stiles felt that silence like a knife to the gut, and he hated it. 

 

So to escape that, he found that running surprisingly did wonders. Plus, it kept him on his toes, and in this town you needed to be ready for anything. Which considering  _anything_ was now, Stiles realized that yeah, maybe his midnight jogs weren't the safest way to clear his head, but it beat the deafening silence of his home, and more importantly his own mind. His feet hit the pavement hard, his calves already beginning to burn. It was a cloudy night, and participation was heavy in the air, making his hoodie damp. In fact it looked like it would rain at any minute. That wouldn't stop him. Stiles felt like the devil was on his heels, and to stop would be complete and utter defeat. And that devil had many faces. Scotts, who Stiles feared he was losing. Malia's, whom he had already lost. His dad, who was terrified of losing  _him_. And many, many more. Though there was one that scared him the most. And it was the most familiar of them all. His. 

 

Just then the sky opened open and an onslaught of heavy, sharp rain pelted him. Stiles gritted his teeth and bore on, refusing to let it slow him down, even when his foot slipped on the wet pavement and he had to catch himself before he went crashing down. A streetlight over head suddenly began blinking in and out of existence, and Stiles glared at it, almost daring it to go out as he continued. 

 

Suddenly the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up, something Stiles now knew that meant he was not alone, and he slowed a bit in his running, his eyes scanning the woods to his right. When he saw a large shadow moving from tree to tree he stumbled to a halt. This shadow was much larger than the one last night had been, and for a moment Stiles felt a wave of fear rush over him, and he stumbled back slightly. The pouring rain made it hard to make out anything, and he was just about to make a run for it when a very angry looking Derek Hale stepped from the cover of trees.

 

Stiles immediately bent at the waist, his hands on his knees and sucking in a deep breath. "What the hell! Are you trying to kill me." He bit out angrily, his heart still racing. 

 

"No more than you're obviously trying to kill yourself!" Derek hissed, the rain making his black locks stick to his face. "Stiles what the hell are you doing?!"

 

Stiles straightened, returning his glare tit for tat. "What does it look like? I'm exercising." He mocked, turning away from Derek and beginning to walk in the other direction, his hoodie now completely soaked.

 

"You do understand that there is a monster somewhere out here, right?" Derek yelled from behind him, and Stiles heard the sound of his feet hitting the side walk as he jogged after him.

 

"Yeah I get that." He muttered to himself, knowing the wolf would be able to hear him.

 

"So you care explaining what you're doing out here then? Are you freaking insane!"

 

Stiles threw up a hand in frustration, swinging around to Derek. "Why don't you tell me why  _you're_ here, Derek."

 

"Well apparently seeing as you're deciding to be such an idiot, I have to be the responsible one and make sure you're ass isn't killed!" Derek marched over to him, only stopping once he was mere inches away and glaring down at Stiles, rain pouring down his face and leather jacket. "Since when have you been this stupid?!"

 

"Since when did you start following me?!" Stiles moved forward, not caring that he was invading the dangerous wolf's space and paying not mind when Derek's eyebrows furrowed even further. "I know it was you last night in wolf form. I even found your damned prints outside my window, Derek. Since when did you become a stalker!"

 

Derek released a deep, animal like growl before grabbing a hold of the back of Stiles' hoodie and beginning to drag him down the street back towards his house. Stiles hissed in anger and tried to break free of his grasp but couldn't. "The same moment that you seemed to stop caring if your life was in danger. God dammit!" Derek yelled, furious. "Do you think I haven't been able to sense the change in you? Smell the hopelessness?"

 

Stiles finally gave up on trying to pry free and just stumbled along, his face red with anger. "Since when did you care?! I'm not a part of your one man pack!" As soon as he said the words he regretted it. He knew how painful the death of Derek's pack had been for him. Plus, it wasn't like he was part of Scott's pack either. Not really. Not anymore. At least he didn't feel that way.

 

"Do you think I care about that?!" Derek twisted him around until their noses were almost touching, his eyes glowing blue. "You don't have to be a part of my pack for me to be worried about you, Stiles. You're my damned  _friend!"_

 

Stiles blinked up at the older man in slight surprise, clearly not expecting Derek to say what he had. While it was true that they had shared moments in the past that had not involved the wolf threatening to rip his throat out or slamming him against walls, Stiles had never thought Derek to acknowledge that there was more between them than just frustration. He opened his mouth, struggling for words and unable to find any.

 

Derek, still glaring down at him, just growled and turned, dragging him once again to Stiles house and window. Only then did he let him go and push open the glass, all but picking Stiles up and tossing him through. Stiles stumbled to his floor, placing a hand on his bed to pull himself up. At the sound of Derek climbing through his window he jerked around with wide eyes. "what are you doing?"

 

The wolf stood straight, and Stiles couldn't help but feel like he was too big for his room. That he just took up too much space, and for some reason it made him feel a little panicked.

 

"Never again." Derek bit out, marching towards Stiles.

 

Stiles stumbled back without thinking and immediately hated himself for it. By the time he had decided to stand his ground his back was already against the wall and it was too late. So all he could really do was glare, but even then he felt very much like a deer cornered by a hungry wolf, ready for the kill. "What?"

 

"I don't want to catch you out at this time of night again." Derek grabbed a hold of him, jerking him slightly, and Stiles watched as rain droplet's fell from his hoodie, blinking past them, feeling one splash against his cheek. For some reason the sight seemed to infuriate Derek, and the next minute he was jerking his hoodie down and shoving him even more against the wall. "Do you understand, Stiles."

 

Stiles could feel his heart pounding painfully against his chest. Not willing to let go of whatever pride he may have left he sucked in a deep breath and met Derek's glare. "I'll go out whenever I want. And you can't really stop me, Derek, can you? Like you said, I'm not a member of your pack. There's nothing you can do."

 

Derek released a cry of fury, his hand slapping hard on the wall beside Stiles head and the boy couldn't help but close his eyes and cringe at the motion. "Dammit Stiles why are you being so stupid! Why can't you just do what you're told for  _once_! You do realize that you could die, right?"

 

"Well I can't stay here!" Stiles bit out, this time his gaze not quite able to reach higher than Derek's chin.

 

"Why the hell not?!"

 

"Because I'll go fucking crazy!" Stiles lifted his hand and angirly pushed at Derek's chest, feeling panic begin to bubble up. When Derek did not budge he continued pushing, until his hands had clenched into fist's and he was hitting the wolf. "Get off of me!" He screamed frantically, and for once Derek obeyed, pulling away slowly. Stiles glared at him, pushing off of the wall and beginning to pace his floor, making sounds of frustration while Derek just stood there, watching him. 

 

"Stiles, what is going on?" Derek finally asked, his voice surprisingly gentle and soft.

 

For some reason that just irritated Stiles more and with another cry he grabbed the lamb on his desk and jerked it from the wall socket, slamming it against his door. He turned to Derek red faced, trying so hard not to cry even though tears were already shinning in his eyes. "There's something wrong!" His voice sounded gutted and raw as he slapped his hand against his chest, the first tear falling. " _In here._ I can feel it, it's not right, and it's driving me fucking crazy! I feel like I'm breaking, Derek. And there's something inside of me, I can  _feel_ it and it's just getting bigger and deader and I feel like I'm just not here! Like I'm watching all of you from the side lines!"

 

Derek cringed, the desperation rolling off of Stiles like waves. He automatically took a step forward, holding his hands out, but Stiles seemed to freak out even more at that and stumbled backwards.

 

"No!" He screamed, holding a hand up, moving back until the back of his knees hit the mattress of his bed. Still he didn't stop, just crawled back on it until he was pushed against the wall again. "Stay away from me. " He choked out, pushing a fist against his chest like he was in pain. "You all just need to stay away from me. Something's wrong, I can feel it. I don't want to hurt anyone..I don't want to hurt anyone else." He choked out before his eyes started glazing over and his body shaking.

 

Derek watched as his breathing turned jerky and short, and then his eye rolled back in his head and he was sliding sideways down the wall, his cheek hitting the mattress. Realizing that he was having a panic attack Derek swore and rushed forward, climbing onto Stiles bed and dragging Stiles forward a bit to lay him on his back. "Stiles! Stiles, hey! Come on! Dammit!" When the boy showed not signs of clarity he straddled him, immediately shoving his hands under Stiles hoodie until he felt bare skin and closed his eyes, the veins in his arms bleeding black as he tapped into Stiles pain to take some of it away. What he found, though, completely shocked him, and Derek's head jerked back with a sharp gasp, his eyes wide. 

 

So much darkness. Stiles was swimming in it. Derek felt crippled under it's weight. How did Stiles even function with this inside of him? How had he not broken by now? He always looked so happy and playful. Was always joking and laughing things off. Had he been hiding this within himself the entire time? There was just...so much. Deaton had said that after the Nogitsune had taken Stiles over there would always be a darkness inside of him, but how could  _this_ be right? It was unlike anything Derek had ever felt, and he trembled at it's strength. No, it couldn't be possible. Something was wrong. 

 

Derek felt his vision beginning to blur, and his body to tremble, but did not stop until Stiles had grown still, his breathing even, only then did he break contact and pull away. He swayed atop Stiles a moment, his hand on the bed to steady himself. Realizing with a curse that he wasn't going to be able to walk away from this immediately he rolled off of Stiles just in time as his eyes rolled back in his head and he hit the mattress.

 

***********

 

Stiles awoke shivering. His body cold. He clenched his fists in the sheets of his bed and rolled to his side with a soft groan, pushing himself up to his elbow. He blinked against the soft darkness of his room, the sun just beginning to rise outside his window. For a moment his memory was hazy and he frowned down at his bed in confusion, and then last night came crashing back. Him and Derek fighting in the street. Him and Derek fighting in his room. And then he had ended up having a panic attack. He must have fallen asleep sometime after and Derek had no doubt scurried out of the window, wanting to be away from his crazy. Stiles sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

 

"How are you feeling?"

 

Stiles released a shocked cry and jerked hard, peering through the darkness to find Derek sitting on a chair across from his bed. He blinked at him a moment, too surprised to say anything. "What are you doing here?" He finally rushed out.

 

"You passed out last night after I...took some of your pain. I passed out too."

 

Stiles just stared at him, his words seeming in another language. "You...stopped my panic attack?" He finally voiced.

 

Derek just nodded silently, his eyes starting hard at Stiles. Stiles shifted uncomfortable under that gaze. "What are you still doing here? My dad--"

 

"Got here a few hours ago and has already came in and checked on you."

 

Stiles' mouth gaped open and he struggled for words. "And you were...just sitting there?!"

 

"Not exactly. I woke up just before he got here and managed to hide in your closet until he left the room."

 

Stiles couldn't help but snort at that comment, and would have most likely made a great joke had he not felt so completely exhausted. "Okay. So...what are you still doing here?" He asked again.

 

"You and me are going to see Deaton."

 

Stiles sighed after a moment, moving until his feet were on the floor. He rested his elbows on his knees and ran is hands over his face. "And why would we do that, exactly?"

 

"Because I think you're right. I think there's something wrong with you."

 

Stiles stilled, his words striking memory and he cringed as his outburst last night came crashing back. Wow. Talk about embarrassing. He had basically broken down in front of the wolf. "Yeah, you're right. But it's nothing that a little blue prescribed happy pill can't fix." He drew out dryly.

 

"I'm not talking about something like depression or anxiety, Stiles. I think there's really something wrong with you. And I'm not leaving here unless you are with me and we are headed to the Druid's."

 

Stiles stared down at the floor a moment before glancing over at Derek. "And if I say no?"

 

Derek shrugged. "Like I said. I'm not leaving."

 

The boy dropped his gaze after a moment. "You know I do have school today. Am I just supposed to not go?"

 

"Stiles, i don't think you understand." Derek leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and hands clasped together. He waited until Stiles' had reluctantly lifted his head again and their gazes were locked. "I will drag you there myself if I have to. I don't care how I get you there, as long as you're there."

 

Stiles sighed again but finally nodded. "Okay. Fine." He stood then, moving towards his bedroom door, and Derek immediately rose and was in front of him in under a second. Stiles stumbled to a halt and threw his hands up, looking sideways. 'Easy...I'm just going to take a shower. I fell asleep in wet clothes, so did you for that matter."

 

Derek looked like he was going to say something but eventually gave a stiff nod and moved aside. "If you try to run I'll chase you down and haul you're ass there immediately." He blurted out as Stiles opened his door.

 

"Yeah, yeah. I know you will." He muttered, shutting the door behind him and moving across the hall to enter the bathroom. He turned on the lights and after shutting the door just leaned back against it a long moment, staring up at the ceiling. How the hell had things gone from he and Derek screaming at each other on the street, to Derek staying in his room all night, and now them going together to see Deaton? Stiles almost laughed it was so hilarious. Screw it. He began to chuckle as he turned on the water until it was hot, and then flipped the switch for the shower. Peeling his clothes off he stepped under the spray and closed his eyes with a sigh. He enjoyed the warmth a moment, just standing there and letting it flow over his body before grabbing some shampoo and scrubbing his head, frowning slightly as he did so. He wasn't really used to how long his hair was getting. Having kept a simple buzz cut since his mother's death. She had always been the one to cut his hair and after her passing his dad had attempted it once and..well...that had been a disaster. Afterwards the Sheriff had always just taken out the trimmers and buzzed it. Stiles had always had the option of going to a barber, but he hadn't wanted to let go of that ritual of having someone he loved cut his hair, so had figured sacrificing a bit of his locks was an easy thing to do. A few years back though, he had gotten old enough to start himself. And not too long ago had just stopped. Not finding the point anymore. 

 

After quickly washing Stiles spent a moment longer enjoying the hotness before finally turning off the water. He pulled open the shower door and grabbed a towel hanging from a hook, drying himself off. When he realized he didn't bring any clothes with him he swore softly, considering a moment calling to Derek to bring him some jeans or something. Eventually he thought that it didn't really matter anyways and just wrapped the towel around his waist, opening the bathroom door and walking back to his room. From the corner of his eye he saw the wolf stiffen immediately but ignored him, trying not to feel too self conscious as he moved to his dresser and pulled out some blue jeans. Realizing that he was going to have to get a shirt from his closet he drew in a deep breath and turned, unable to help himself from glancing over to Derek, who was wearing his familiar controlled, blank expression, but his eyes were on Stiles waist.

 

Stiles realized he was looking at his tattoo again and felt his neck heat slightly. He passed Derek and hurriedly got a shirt from his closet, pulling it over his head. "Can you not burn holes in my back." He muttered, staring down at his dresser as he stepped into his pants and pulled them up under his towel. Yup. Seemed he was going commando, cause no way in hell was he going to embarrass himself by pulling on some briefs.

 

"What does it mean?" Derek drew out deeply.

 

Stiles frowned and glanced over his shoulder as he flung the towel aside and buttoned his pants. "What?"

 

"The tattoo." Derek's gaze lifted to his then. "What does it mean?"

 

Stiles turned, looking at him a moment before sitting on his bed, licking his lips. " _Woe to the conquered ones, for we are driven by defeat_."

 

The weight of his words settled over them both a moment before Derek spoke again, his voice soft. "You weren't defeated, Stiles."

 

"It sure as hell feels like that." Stiles gave a weak grin before shaking his head. "But that's not what it means to me, anyways. Well...it is, but in different terms." At Derek's frown he sighed, shrugging his shoulder. "I accept the fact that I was defeated, Derek. And I was. Even you have to admit that. But...in a way, that defeat also fuel's me. I know what it's like to fall, and now I know I'll do anything and everything to never feel that again." He turned to look at Derek, his eyes hard. "It's a battle scar. A sign that I  _survived_."

 

In that moment, looking at him-at the edge within his gaze-Derek realized with some surprise that Stiles, though only 17, was no longer a child. At some point, not too long ago, he had changed; and the person sitting in front of him now, though seemingly lost and un-anchored--was a man.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh this chapter was an emotional roller coaster.
> 
> So I feel like the chapter may have been a bit short, but that's just because there is going to be so much going on in that one day and I felt like it would be best to end the chapter here seeing as the next would most likely be pretty long.
> 
> Also, I wanted to thank everyone SO much for reading and those who have commented so far as well. This is more than just a story for me, it's a little piece of my heart, so it makes me feel so good when I get positive feedback from you guys. Also, cause I'm so happy lol I wanted to share the song that started this fic in the first place. I'll give a little hint - the fic will have scenes similar to the scenes of the video. So if you're interested in watching & letting it wreck havoc with your head you can find it here https://youtu.be/tGE381tbQa8


	15. Diagnosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deaton searches for answers for the darkness growing in Stiles, sharing something with Derek that forces the older wolf to question his own desires as well as informing him of a ritual that can be used in any worst case scenario. Stiles get's two new play toys from Deaton.

By the time Derek was following Stiles out of his home and to his jeep, the sun had risen to it's peek in the sky and the weariness that had settled over Stiles had grown better after the teen had drowned a cup of coffee and, after a glare from Derek, been forced to eat a bagel. Stiles had muttered under his breath the whole time, shifting awkwardly on his feet, obviously uncomfortable with Derek's new fascination with making sure he was healthy. Derek had taken it all in stride, ignoring that okay, yeah maybe he felt a little awkward as well. But this was Stiles. And as much as the boy irritated the hell out of him, Derek knew the pain of losing him would be so much more than the frustration of having him around. He watched now as Stiles stomped to his Jeep, still muttering to himself. "Hey. Not happening." Derek approached him, watching as Stiles turned with a frown before looking down at his outstretched hand. Stiles arched a brow in clear confusion and Derek rolled his eyes. "The keys, Stiles." He bit out.

 

Stiles stared at him in an 'you've got to be out of your mind' way before sputtering and shaking is head. "No way in hell. No one drives my Jeep."

 

Derek held his ground, glaring at him silently.

 

"No! Not happening!" Stiles crossed his hands over his chest in defiance. "Besides I'm fine. It's not like I'm going to fall asleep at the wheel or anything."

 

Derek released a deep growled sigh, his eyes narrowing more.

 

Stiles pursed is lips angrily, his face growing red, until he finally released a cry of extreme frustration and slapped the keys in Derek's palm. "I hope you know I seriously hate you." He bit out before swinging away and jerking over the passenger side door, slamming it behind him as he got in. 

 

Derek couldn't help the satisfied grin that grazed his face as he walked around the the drivers side and slid in, starting the engine. He could feel Stiles' glower the entire time as he pulled out of the drive way. "Relax. I'm not going to break it." 

 

Stiles scoffed, slouching down in his seat before grumbling to himself. "First you follow me like a weirdo last night, then you scream at me in my own bedroom. Now you kidnap me and steal my car! Remind me of why we're friends agian?!" Stiles bit out the last part, immediately drifting off into an awkward silence at his own words.

 

Derek glanced over at him with a sigh, at some point really needing to have a conversation with the boy about learning to reign in his own emotions. He was oozing nervousness.

 

They drove in silence a while, Stiles staring out the window the entire time. Finally Derek could stand it no more (which was really very odd for him) and spoke up. "Are you still serious about your training?"

 

Stiles glanced up at him in surprised before turning to look back out the window. "Yeah. It's just after ---" He trailed off, feeling his face burn hotly, unable to finish his sentence. And I mean could you blame him? Who would want to relieve that embarrassing moment of him getting a boner because of Derek's normal manhandling. 

 

Derek sensed where his thoughts had settled and shifted in the seat, the night in question making blood rush to a certain part of his body that really had no reason to be there. He cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Look, Stiles. It's fine. It's not like I--"

 

"Oh my God are we really talking about this?!" Stiles immediately whined, actually clasping his hands over his ears. "Derek I cannot have this conversation with you!"

 

"Well if you would just freaking listen you may calm down!" Derek bit out, jerking Stiles hand away from his left ear and glowering a the boy, who looked sheepishly away, his face blood shot. Derek sighed and tried again. "As I was saying. It was wrong of me to jerk you around like that. It was clearly none of my business. So...I'm sorry."

 

Stiles jaw dropped as he stared at Derek in complete disbelief, struggling for words a long moment, actually making Derek uncomfortable. "Oh my God..who are you? Where's my regular Sourwolf at?"

 

At the boys use of the word 'my' Derek annoyingly felt warmth rush over him again and grunted. "Ha ha. Very funny. I just wanted to say that I'm serious about your training. I think it's a great idea. So, if you want, we can just forget anything that's happened. Wipe the slate clean, you know?"

 

Stiles chanced a hesitant glance his way. "Really?"

 

Derek nodded silently, his eyes on the road.

 

"That would be nice." Stiles muttered softly before drawing up a little straighter in his seat, his mood obviously lightened a bit. "So...has Scott talked to you about this weekend?"

 

Derek frowned. "I haven't seen Scott since the other night. Why? What's happening this weekend?"

 

Stiles rolled his eyes at his obvious slacking friend. Come on Scott. Could he not get his head away from Kira long enough to do anything? "Scott and the other's think they may have a lead on the recent killings."

 

Derek swung his gaze to him. "Really? What?"

 

"Well, I don't really agree with them, but a new student transferred the same day the killings started and Scott and the other's think he may be connected, so they told me to invite him over to the loft this weekend so you guys could keep an eye on him. Study his behavior and all that."

 

"Why didn't they just ask him themselves?" Derek frowned. 

 

Stiles hesitated, searching his words carefully. "Uh, well he's in one of my classes and we've kind of become friends."

 

"What? Stiles!" 

 

Stiles threw up his hands. "What?! It's not like they know for sure he has anything to do with the murders, Derek! And honestly I highly doubt it. He's a nice guy. He isn't the type."

 

Derek furrowed his brow at him a moment before they reached Deaton's clinic and he pulled into the lot, parking in one of the spaces. "Well it wouldn't be the first time someone close to us has ended up being the bad guy." He muttered, obviously relieving his own past mistakes.

 

"Unfortunately we've all been there, buddy." Stiles said softly before opening the door of his Jeep with a sigh. "Alright, come on, let's get this over with." He followed closely behind Derek, grabbing his jeep keeps from the man's fingers with a grin of triumph that Derek just rolled his eyes at. They entered the office to find Deaton standing in the empty room, looking at some paperwork on the counter. When he saw them he arched his brows and set the papers aside.

 

"And to what do I owe this rather unexpected honor?"

 

Stiles gave a tight grin, motioning towards Derek. "Well, nothing much. Sourwolf here just kidnapped me is all."

 

Deaton arched a brow and looked at Derek questioningly. Derek rolled his eyes as he approached the counter. "I need your help. I think something may be wrong."

 

Deaton frowned immediately, drawing straight. "Nothing too serious, I hope?" He glanced between Derek and Stiles with a hidden knowledge that made Stiles frown, wondering what was up.

 

Derek shook his head. "Stiles was in pain last night, so I tried to take some of it away, and I found something else." He said, not really elaborating more than that.

 

Deaton's brow rose even higher before he nodded and walking around them, flipped the sign on the door to closed and locked it. "Well, let's head back, shall we?"

 

Stiles sighed up at Derek and begrudgingly followed Deaton into the back rooms where he kept all of his Druid-y stuff. He walked around, staring at a desk of candles and jars filled with unknown substances as Derek and the older man began talking.

 

"Okay, so tell me what happened?"

 

"When I tapped in to take his pain last night I was almost knocked off of my ass." Derek turned a hesitant glance to Stiles, who was trying his best to appear like he wasn't the least bit interested in what he was saying, and failing. "There was....a  _darkness_ inside of him. It was unlike anything I have ever seen or felt."

 

Deaton frowned a moment, thinking. "Well, to a certain extent, there is a darkness within all of us. And given the events that Stiles has recently been through...."

 

Stiles pretended like his heart didn't clench painfully.

 

"No. I understand all that. I know all about darkness, believe me." Derek held up a hand, his eyes hard. "But what I found in him....it's not normal, Deaton. There's...something wrong."

 

Stiles finally gave in with a sigh turned to Deaton himself, scrubbing his hand over is mouth before talking. "Look, I'm not even going to lie, after the Nogitsune things have been...hard. Okay, really hard? But Derek's right...the past few day's I've felt something...something growing." He clenched his teeth, sucking in a deep calming breath, obviously having a hard time speaking about it. "Somethings not right. I'm not sure what." His eyes were desperate when he looked at Deaton again. "You gotta find out what it is and make it stop, okay?"

 

Deaton watched him a moment before nodding. "Okay."

 

Stiles arched a brow. "Okay? Just like that?"

 

"Well it's not going to be easy. In order for me to find out what's going on I'm going to have to...." He drew off, glancing sideways. "I'll have to do a ritual that most likely won't be very pleasant. But at least I'll know whats's happening to you, if anything is."

 

"What kind of ritual?" Derek spoke up with a stern frown, obviously not very keen on anything that would hurt Stiles.

 

"I'll have to glimpse into his soul. And something so personal being laid bare...well, it's never easy."

 

Stiles licked his lips before moving forward. "Wait..my  _soul?"_

 

Deaton nodded. "I'll have to put you in a sleep state. Everyone has a natural defense within them, and to your body it will feel like I'm trying to come in against your will. Hense the....unpleasant-y part."

 

Stiles scoffed, shaking his head with slightly wide eyes. "I don't know about this, Doc. I mean...it's my  _soul._...what all will you be able to see?"

 

"Everything." Deaton answered him honestly, his gaze not wavering. "Every hidden thought and feelings that you've never shared. Every desire and fear."

 

Stiles gave a mocking laugh. "Oh, is that it?" He shook his head, swinging around to pace. "Yeah. Not happening."

 

"Stiles." Derek drew out behind him.

 

"No, Derek." Stiles swung to him. "It's not happening. I happen to like my secrets and 'hidden desires' to stay hidden, okay?!"

 

Derek growled, moving forward until he was hovering over Stiles, who was glaring up at him. "So you're just fine with letting this thing stay inside of you? Of not being in control of what's happening to your body, again?!"

 

Stiles felt his words like a blow, and he stumbled away with a cringe, his fist on his stomach. 

 

"I swear if you do not do this then I will tell everyone else exactly what's going on and then you'll have no choice."

 

Stiles looked up at him in shock, pain evident in his eyes, and Derek hated that he had put it there, but the situation was to dire. They needed to do this.  _Derek needed him to do this._ Deaton watched them silently, his wise eyes taking in everything said. 

 

Stiles finally lowered his gaze in defeat, nodding slightly. "Okay." He said softly. "I'll do it." After watching him a moment Derek moved aside, and Stiles walked past him to stand before Deaton. 'So what am I supposed to do?"

 

Deaton motioned to a examining table in the corner of the room and Stiles followed him. "Take a seat while I prepare some things."

 

Stiles nodded and hopped up on the table, staring at his folded hands as Deaton moved away and began gathering things from around the room. Derek came to stand beside him and Stiles lifted a weak glare at him. "I still don't like this." He muttered.

 

"I know. But it's better than losing you again."

 

Stiles smiled softly. "Look at you. All don't kick the sick puppy."

 

Derek laughed. "What can I say, I guess you're growing on me, Stiles."

 

Stiles snorted, actually looking up at that. "What, seriously? But I'm going to miss you pushing me against walls so much."

 

"I don't think that's going to be changing anytime soon." Derek drew out, but there was something in his tone, the tenseness of his shoulders and the edge in his eyes that made Stiles shiver, and with a gulp the boy looked away.

 

"Okay, Stiles, why don't you lie back." Deaton approached then, breaking the moment, and Stiles nodded, clearing his throat. He pulled his feet up and laid down.

 

"Now, you'll want to get as comfortable as you can" Deaton said, holding a jar of some colorful looking sand stuff in his hand. 

 

Stiles stared at the jar warily before nodding and folding his hands behind his head so cushion against the cold hardness of the table. As he did so he felt his shirt draw up slightly and by the way Derek's gaze jotted down knew his tattoo was showing again and couldn't help the hot flush that filled him.

 

Deaton tilted his head slightly, looking at the tattoo. "Hmm." Was all he said before lifting Stiles shirt up a bit more and hooking his finger on the waist band of his pants pulled it down until the whole script was visible. 

 

Stiles heard him reading it to himself before he jerked his hands from behind his head and tugged his shirt down and his pants up with wide eyes. "Hey!" He choked, knowing exactly how far down the tattoo went. He chanced a glance in Derek's direction and found him standing dead still, his jaw clenched so tight Stiles could see a vein in his neck pulsing and his glare locked on the spot of where Stiles' tattoo was.

 

"Interesting choice." Was all Deaton said, and was it him or did he had a bit of a smug smile on his lips. "Okay, back as you were."

 

Stiles stared at him through narrowed eyes a moment, unsure if he would pull a similar stunt, before finally replacing his hands behind his head. Deaton nodded instantly and poured some of the red looking sand into his hand, beginning to draw a circle around Stiles. "Uh..what is this stuff?"

 

"It is red quartz that has been crushed down to a powder." Deaton replied, finishing his circle.

 

"And...what does it do, exactly?"

 

"It will help me open a pathway to your soul...as well as ward off any possible attacks while my body is vulnerable."

 

"Um..okay. Shouldn't it be around you as well then?"

 

Deaton glanced up at him then. "It protects me by holding in whatever may be inside of you."

 

Stiles' gut twisted at his words. "You really think that there's something dangerous inside of me?" He whispered. He couldn't go through that again. Not again.

 

"I don't know. But it always better to be safe than sorry." Deaton offered with an apologetic frown before he lifted a wood bowl of some weird looking red liquid. He dipped his finger in it and with it, drew a circle on his forehead, then moved to do the same to Stiles, who jerked back with a frown.

 

"Uh..what is that?"

 

Deaton sighed at him. "Stiles, I'm trying to help."

 

"Yeah I get that. And I'm grateful. I'm just a little weary of the stuff that looks a lot like blood that you're trying to rub all over me."

 

Deaton lifted his brows and for a moment had a look like he was about to set his hands on his hips. "Do you really want to know?"

 

Stiles stared at him a moment before laying his head back down with a sigh. "Yeah, okay, then." He frowned when Deaton leaned forward and drew a circle on is forehead as well, telling himself that it wasn't blood, even though he knew the chances of it being just that were pretty high. Great. Well, you only live once, right?

 

"When I tap in it's going to be like a trance for the both of us." Deaton turned to Derek. "Whatever you do, you can't touch either of us. Do you understand? No matter what happens, Derek."

 

Derek frowned at him but nodded after a moment.

 

Deaton turned back to Stiles with a sigh. "Okay. Are you ready?"

 

Stiles gave a weak shrug. "Not really."

 

"Just...try to relax." Deaton repeated again before taking a deep breath and laying a hand on Stiles' chest. He closed his eyes, chanting a moment. As the seconds ticked by Stiles glanced around the room absently, beginning to think that it wasn't going to work, and then all of a sudden it felt like his body was being ripped apart and he bowed up on the table with a scream of agony.

 

Derek jerked forward instantly, and Deaton glared at him. "Don't touch him!" He bit out between chanting, pushing down hard on Stiles chest to keep the boy from jerking off of the table. 

 

Derek watched in horror as Stiles screamed, clawing at Deaton's arm desperately trying to break free. The sight and sound of his screams made Derek's inner wolf claw frantically towards the surface, and Derek had to jerk away as his eyes shifted to blue and his fangs came out.

 

"Almost there!" Deaton shouted out while Derek tried to gain control of himself, because at that moment all he really wanted to do was rip the man's arm from his body. 

 

And then, sudden, the screams stopped. Derek swung around to see Stiles still bowed up, his eyes wide and tears falling to the side. His open mouth released a soft, choked whine before he finally fell back against the table, his eyes closing.

 

Derek felt his gut drop to the floor and was about to run towards him, but suddenly the red powder around Stiles began to glow. Derek looked at Deaton, who was standing ram rod still, his head back and his eyes in the back of his head, and he realized that the man had gone into a trance like he had said. So...it had worked, then? Derek ran a trembling hand over his face and stumbled back until he was falling into a chair. Feeling like he was mentally exhausted even though he hadn't done anything. Seeing Stiles in pain like that had sparked something so basic and raw, and the need to protect him had been more powerful than anything Derek had ever felt. It left him visibly shaken and questioning everything. He needed to figure out what he wanted, and soon. Not his wolf, because that was blatantly obvious. Derek just feared that the road to self realization was in no way going to easy, and he dreaded what felt like was a disaster to come.

 

********************

 

Almost two hours had passed when Deaton suddenly sucked in a deep gasp of air and stumbled away from Stiles. Derek shot up immediately, rushing over to help the man as he tried to steady himself. 

 

"Deaton? Is Stiles okay? What did you see?"

 

Deaton stared at Stiles in silence a long moment, his eyes wide. "I need to sit down." He finally drew out.

 

Derek, a bit annoyed, nodded and began to pull him towards the chair he had been in, but Deaton shook his head, pulling him to a stop. 

 

"No, not here. We need to go to another room." He stumbled away from Derek, supporting himself on tables as he passed.

 

"What about Stiles?" Derek drew out, his gaze lingering on the boy whose eyes had yet to open. "Is he okay?!"

 

"He's fine. He's just still under. He will wake up on his own." Deaton pushed open the door and with one last look to Stiles Derek followed him, watching Deaton collapse into a chair, clearly shaken.

 

"What happened?"

 

"You were right. There's something inside of him. Something I've never come across before."

 

Derek felt his gut clench at the words. "Is it the Nogitsune?"

 

"No. Something else. Not something tangible either." Deaton frowned, motioning with his hands as he tried to find the words to explain. "Everything leaves behind a path. Evidence, a trail to point towards. A mark. But this...this  _thing_??? It has no mark, Derek. There's nothing to show where it came from. It's just like..." Deaton drew off a moment before looking back up at the wolf. "It's like shadows. And Derek...it's  _changing him_."

 

Derek stumbled back against the wall, staring down at Deaton with such a utter despair. "What do you mean?"

 

"Stiles is special. He's always been special. There's something inside of him that I've never seen in another human before. A force of such... _pure will_ ..that it borders on supernatural. In the beginning I thought that he may have had the  _spark_ , but he's not a Druid, just a regular human."

 

Derek didn't have to ask to know what Deaton meant. It was true. Derek had never met another human quite like Stiles. He had even acknowledged that in the beginning, when all he had wanted to do was kill the overactive teen. So the fact that there was something special about him was not a far cry in Derek's mind. 

 

"But this  _thing_ inside of him? It's trying to pollute that will, Derek. It's trying to...infect him."

 

Derek shook his head in confusion. "What? Why?"

 

"I don't know. But I have a feeling that if it succeed's...it won't be good." Deaton sighed, clenching shaky hands on the chair arms. "You have to understand, even though Stiles is still human, with a force such as he has, with proper training, he could be capable of amazing things. Will is perhaps the greatest weapon of all, Derek. There's no end to what he will be able to do. With proper training-" Deaton said again. "He could be more powerful than all of us."

 

Derek drew back in surprise, thinking of everything that Deaton had just said. "So..if this thing infect's him?"

 

Deaton's eyes grew dark with weight. "We could all be in jeopardy."

 

Just then Derek heard Stiles increased heart beat and sensed that he was waking. He moved towards Deaton, bending down in his face. "He can't know."

 

Deaton frowned up at him. "What?"

 

"You can't tell him. It will kill him."

 

"It could kill us!" Deaton drew out.

 

Derek swung away with a growl of frustration. "You can't tell him." He said again. "Just...I will watch him. Chris Argent and I are training him right now. Maybe that will help anchor him."

 

"Derek, I don't think you understand. The kind of anchor that Stiles needs is something physical. Something real."

 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

 

Deaton licked his lips, looking at Derek. "There is a ritual that I can do. Something that will stabilize him. Connect him. Give him that anchor."

 

"What kind of ritual?!" Derek bit out, realizing that Stiles was nearly awake and wanting to be in there. 

 

"It's a ritual that will link him with another person. Completely. He would share their strengths and their weaknesses in every way, and in turn will have that anchor that he needs."

 

"Sounds too easy." Because, nothing came without a price.

 

Deaton nodded. "The ritual is permanent."

 

"Of course!" Derek twisted away with a hard laugh before throwing up his hands. "Well, what else?"

 

"The link that is created will create a physical, and mental bond between the two. They will literally be two parts of one half. But it will only work on the person he has closest connection with now."

 

Derek sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily. "That would be Scott." Derek stared up at the ceiling a moment. "How long do we have...."

 

"I can't be sure." Deaton answered honestly. "With his will....he could fight it for weeks...months even...or it could take him over in a matter of days."

 

Derek heard Stiles shifting then, now awake, and glared down at Deaton. "You make up something." He bit out before pushing past him and back into the room.

 

Stiles sat blurry eyed, blinking slowly and looking around the room. "Oh..hey..what happened? DId it work?"

 

Derek cleared his throat and approached him, forcing a smile. "Yeah, Deaton just woke up a few minutes ago." At his words Deaton entered the room, wearing a hesitant smile.

 

"How are you feeling?" He asked, approaching Stiles and looking him over, checking his vitals.

 

"Like I've been asleep for years." Stiles yawned loudly, stretching his arms over his head. "Which I guess is good, seeing as I haven't been sleeping much lately."

 

Deaton's smile did not quite reach his eyes. "Well I'm glad I could help." He clasped a hand on Stiles shoulder and squeezed gently. 

 

"So, Doc, what's the verdict?" Stiles eyes turned serious.

 

"Well, Derek was right. I did see that something is shifting in you." Deaton could feel Derek's intense glare and ignored the wolf, smiling softly to Stiles. "But it's nothing too major. Actually, it's completely normal, given everything you have been through. And the fact that you are obviously not taking care of your own health isn't helping much."

 

Stiles sighed, visibly relieved, before turning a mocking grin to Derek. "See, Sourwolf? You were worrying for nothing."

 

Derek smiled tightly and laughed. "Guess you were right."

 

Stiles bobbed his head a bit in agreement and was about to hop down when Deaton halted him, his hand on his shoulder. Stiles frowned down at him. "Doc?"

 

"I just..." Deaton sighed, moving back. "While it's nothing too serious, there is still something that I could do. Derek tell's me that you have been training with him and Chris Argent?"

 

Stiles nodded after a moment, looking between the two, unsure where this was going. Even Derek was frowning at Deaton.

 

"Well, I was thinking that maybe I can help you out with that." He held up a hand with a grin and turned to go through drawers and cabinets. When he had finally turned back he had an old looking leather bracelet in his hand and a weird, milky looking stone on a necklace. "This is very old. " He said with a grin, picking up Stiles wrist and beginning to fasten the leather bracelet. "But very powerful."

 

Stiles frowned down at it, twisting his arm around. "What does it do?"

 

"Think of it as a temporary shield. If you're ever attack, the bracelet will give off a temporary barrier to protect you. It only last's about ten or so seconds, so you'll not be able to rely on it totally."

 

"Oh..dude....that's so flipping awesome!" Stiles grinned, clearly happy. "What's the other do?!" He asked anxiously, looking at the simple necklace.

 

"This...now this is nothing more than a stone..." He looked at Derek before continuing. "And it will only ever be a stone, unless we change it."

 

Stiles frowned at that. "I'm not following."

 

Deaton moved closer, his eyes serious. "Stiles..this...darkness inside of you, if used properly and for the right reasons, it can be a weapon."

 

Stiles glanced at Derek, who was scowling darkly at Deaton. "I don't understand."

 

"If you wanted, I could charge the moonstone with the darkness inside of you. Now, it won't take that darkness away from you, but more so create a link that you could use, only in the most dire situations, in order to protect yourself."

 

Stiles stared down at the stone a long moment. "Isn't that...kind of bad?"

 

"It is whatever you make it, Stiles. While it's true that the power itself is negative, that doesn't mean that it can't be used to do something positive."

 

Stiles licked his lips, quiet a moment before nodding. "Okay, yeah."

 

Derek released a growl from beside him, his body stiff. "Are you sure this is a good idea, Stiles?"

 

Stiles shrugged after a moment. "Like he said, if whatever's in me can be used for good, I'm going to do it."

 

Deaton nodded, handing the necklace to Stiles. "Remember what I said, though, you will be channeling it into a very powerful and deadly weapon. It should never be used but in extreme conditions, and it can only be used once."

 

Stiles frowned. "Okay..I'm starting to think there's something even heavier you're not saying."

 

Deaton drew in a deep breath, glancing sideways at Derek before continuing. "It will become a force of pure power, Stiles. And something like that always has a price. Using it could be deadly."

 

Stiles blinked. "To who?"

 

"To you." Deaton looked up at him then, and Stiles swallowed.

 

"No." Derek bit out, moving forward to jerk the necklace from Stiles hand.

 

Stiles pulled away from him, hiding it behind his back. "Derek I'm doing it."

 

"Didn't we just have a conversation about this last night?" Derek hissed. "I thought you agreed to stop doing stupid things."

 

"First, I NEVER agreed to that, and second, this is my decision. Like Deaton said, I'd only ever use it unless I absolutely had to." He stared down Derek a moment before turning to Deaton with a nod. "What do we do?"

 

"Just a few words and focused energy, and we're done. Nothing near as complex as the ritual we just did. And I promise, no pain."

 

Stiles groaned immediately. "Oh thank God. I was waiting for you to say that."

 

Deaton smiled softly and took Stiles hand in his, the moonstone locked in the boys grip. "Just close your eyes and follow my words."

 

Stiles nodded, daring a glance to a furious Derek before closing his eyes. 

 

Deaton closed his eyes as well and leaned his head forward. "Now, I need you to calm your breathing. Clear your mind as much as possible. To do this you'll have to go inside of yourself and channel that darkness into the stone in your hand." Stiles nodded in silence, and both were quiet a long moment before Deaton spoke again. Derek turned away with a growl and began to pace. "Look deep inside of yourself. Don't be afraid to face the darkness and negativity. Accept it as what it is, and know that by doing so, you have power over it." Deaton drew out softly and slowly. "I want you to feel it's force. It's power. Feel what you could do with that power. How many lives you could protect. How many you could save. Grasp it. Now very slowly and calmly, I want you to imagine sending it downwards through your arm and hand, and into the stone. Think of the stone as a room to store it all, someplace to keep it safe."

 

They were quiet a moment, and then Stiles sucked in a soft gasp, opening his eyes. A soft black light was glowing between the cracks in his palm, and opening his hand he saw the moonstone, once white, now black. The glow finally ceased, leaving only the oval shaped smooth stone. "Oh...dude...that was awesome." He whispered in awe.

 

Deaton smiled at him and taking the necklace placed it over his head.

 

Stiles stared down at the thing in his fingers a moment before tucking it under his shirt. "I've never done anything like that before."

 

"You did amazingly." Deaton said, actually sounding proud. "You'll be a force to reckon with eventually, I promise."

 

Stiles laughed at him, rolling his eyes. "I dunno about all that now." He turned to look at Derek, who was watching him silently, a strange, pained look in his eyes. At his frown Derek immediately turned away, sighing.

 

"Now that you've had your fun. I think it's time that we get back to training. You ran out the other day and we didn't get anything done."

 

Stiles face shot blood red and he made a quick glance to Deaton, who was looking at Stiles with an arched brow and amused grin. "Uh...he's...we were....Yeah I guess we'll go now." He hopped down from the table and smiled fondly at Deaton. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate it."

 

"You are very welcome, Stiles." Deaton clasped his shoulder again and Stiles turned, practically skipping over to Derek. Deaton's smile fell as he and Derek shared a dark look, and then the two were gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh there's so much word on rather Stiles is or is not a Spark, and I've had a hard time deciding if I wanted to make it real in the fic. In the end I settled for something that I feel is more...honest for Stiles. Something that everyone can see clearly (or at least had seen). And if at some point later on that changes, than it will be an easy build up to breech into i think.


	16. Catalyst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek teaches Stiles how to box. Scott overhears a conversation that set new events into motion.

***Hey, it's Ryan. Noticed that you weren't at school today. Is everything okay?***

 

Stiles stared down at his phone, reading the message yet again. It had come in about twenty minutes ago, and Stiles was torn between not wanting to deceive Ryan and texting him back. It was obvious that Scott and the other's didn't trust him. Well, maybe that wasn't true. They were just weary and had learned from the past that coincidences like this (cause even Stiles had to admit it) didnt just happen. In all honesty if it were anyone else Stiles would have been suspicious as well. But this was Ryan. Adorable, flirty Ryan who somehow thought Stiles was amazing. Yeah. He was still having a hard time with that one. 

 

"Stiles! Are you listening to me?"

 

Stiles jerked out of his thoughts and looked up at Derek, who was presently holding the punching bag and glaring at him something fierce. Those eyebrows, though. "Uh, yeah, sorry." Stiles locked his phone and tossed it behind him to Derek's bed.

 

Derek glared at the phone like it was a living breathing person he could intimidate. "You'be been pulling that thing out the past twenty minutes. Is there something more important than training that you need to get to?" Though he had asked it like a question, Stiles was immediately aware of the snide remark that was more of an 'i dare you to say yes' thing.

 

Stiles cleared his throat and shook his head. "No, sir!" He snapped his fingers and threw up a thumb. "Let's get to it, then."

 

Derek stared at him impassively a moment before rolling his eyes. "Okay, so like I was saying. Keep your weight evenly distributed between both legs, and your knees bent slightly. Good. Now elbows down, and fist's up. Okay. Be sure to keep your dominant hand in back and remember, you're defending with those fist's as well, so make sure you keep them up high enough to where you can just see over."

 

"Oh my God!" Stiles drew out, dropping his hands. "Am I ever going to get to hit the damned bag!" Before Stiles could say anything else the punching bag was slammed in his face and he stumbled back with a groan, clutching his throbbing nose. "What the hell?!"

 

"That's because you weren't standing right." Derek barked. If your feet had been in the right place and your weight evenly distributed that wouldn't have happened!"

 

"You are just a sadist!" Stiles hissed, making sure that his nose wasn't bleeding, which luckily it wasn't. 

 

"Stiles if you continue to look at this like a joke, or something fun to past the time with, then you'll never improve. Don't you want to be able to protect yourself?"

 

Stiles glared at him a moment before his shoulders dropped. "Yeah okay, fine. I'll take it seriously." He sighed and moved to get into the correct stance again, lifting his fist's which Derek had wrapped heavily in white cloth and tape. "Alright, what now?"

 

"Okay, now this part is important if you don't want broken fingers. You need to remember to always make a fist with thumb out. Don't tuck it under your other fingers. Now this first hit is just a straight jab. Go ahead and start with your dominant hand first. With jabs there's not much body movement, so don't worry about that. Let's start out slow. Take your dominant hand and as you're punching, rotate your fist to land with the palm down. Exactly, like that."

 

Stiles did another slow mo of the movement, trying not to feel too embarrassed over everything. Derek's encouragement was definitely helping, though. 

 

"Okay, great. Now when you really start hitting, remember that with each impact, you need to exhale. And pull back immediately after each impact. You ready to try it for real?"

 

Stiles nodded, sucking in a deep breath. He waited until Derek gave him the go ahead before doing the same thing, though this time faster and harder. At the sound of his fist smacking loudly against the punching bag he felt an immediate overwhelming sense of relief fall over him. The knowledge that he was actually doing something for himself, that he was trying, made him feel incredibly satisfied; and he tried a few more hits, each one getting a little harder. More steady.

 

"Good!" Derek grinned, and Stiles felt foolish when his stomach fluttered happily at the wolf's obvious approval. 

 

"You'll have that one down in no time. You're balance could be better, but that's always tricky in the beginning. We will work on that too. Now the next thing is the Right Cross. This is a strength based punch, one that you'll actually use your body weight for." Derek released the punching bag and approached Stiles, looking down at his legs. "Now you'll have to rotate your hips and upper body on this one for it to work properly, while pivoting on your right foot about 90 degrees."

 

Stiles just gave him a pained expression. "Dude...I so didn't get any of that."

 

Derek rolled his eyes, but had a bit of a grin in place as he motioned towards Stiles. "I can show you?"

 

Stiles licked his lips and shrugged. "Uh, okay." He was a little surprised by the man's offer, mainly by the fact that he didn't just grab a hold of him and jerk him around until he was doing it right.

 

Derek nodded and after swallowing moved to stand behind Stiles. Stiles stiffened immediately, instinct making him turn slightly until Derek came in his peripherals. Derek must have sensed his unease because he chuckled. "Don't worry Stiles, I'm not going to attack you. Look back at the bag."

 

Stiles said a quick Hale Mary (cause he was Catholic. Yeaaah) before turning to look again at the punching bag. He felt Derek move behind him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge and all of his sense suddenly standing to attention. Derek's hands landed hotly on his hips then and Stiles jerked, his heart beat leaping.

 

"Easy." Derek drew out softly, making it evident he was aware of Stiles anxiety.

 

Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to making himself relax and trust the wolf, and shockingly, after a moment his heart began beating against at a more normal rate. Still a little fast, granted, but it wasn't going to get any slower than that under the circumstances. 

 

"Okay, get into your natural stance." Stiles nodded and returned to the first stance Derek had showed him. "Good. Now when I say pivot, I don't mean your entire leg, but your foot. Your right heel is going to come up, yeah like that. Now turn your body slightly..knee bending..." With his hands on his hips Derek directed his body until it was at a slight angel, his left side going back. "Exactly, just like that. Try it a few more times." Stiles nodded, trying out the movement, Derek's hands strong on his hips as he did so, correcting him any time he made a mistake, until he was doing it without fail. "Great. Now you need to bring your arm into it. Just like a jab, it's going to rotate out, palm down on impact. You're going to want to land the hit on the first two knuckles of your fist."

 

Stiles did as he said a few times, glancing over his shoulder at Derek, whose face was incredibly close to his. Stiles swallowed hard, blinking a moment. "Like that?" He finally managed to say, and had he sounded a little too breathless???

 

Derek moved his right hand then, sliding it up his side and Stiles looked away before Derek saw him close his eyes, trying not to but unable to hold back the shiver. "Almost. You've just got to remember to keep your elbow up." Derek said softly (and had _he_ sounded a little too breathless), his hand moving to his elbow and pushing it upwards until Stiles' fist was right under his chin. "To the chin. Always remember that, okay? And don't lean your upper body forward. You lose balance when you do that and though it may seem like the hit will be more powerful, it will always be stronger when you keep balance."

 

Stiles nodded, swallowing dryly. "Okay, I think I got it."

 

Derek nodded and after a moment took a step back, standing behind him. "Okay, let me see."

 

Stiles tried not to feel too self conscious as paced lazily behind him, watching him as he moved. After about ten tries Derek nodded again, coming to stand beside him, a grin on his face. "Well, I think Chris was right. Your strength does seem to be your speed. The good thing about boxing, it exercises both that and physical strength and control at the same time. I think you can do really well with this."

 

Stiles couldn't help it, he grinned like an idiot, looking down sheepishly. "I hope so." He muttered.

 

"Okay, okay. Don't let it get to your head." Derek chuckled and reached out to mess his hair, and the gesture was so surprising to both of them that they just stood there a moment, staring at each other with wide eyes before Derek pulled away, clearing his throat. "So try that a few more times. And combine the two. Go into your Right Cross after your jab. Practice for a bit."

 

Stiles nodded, feeling his cheeks burning. He started on the punching bag again, welcoming the distraction. It was certainly easier than dwelling on Derek's sudden change in character all day and what it could possibly mean. If it meant anything at all. He wasn't sure how long he stood there hitting the thing, but suddenly Derek was throwing a towel over his head and telling him to take a time out. Once he did stop, though, Stiles realized with a hiss that his arms were aching considerably, and using the towel began wiping off his face and hair, which was damp with sweat. Derek was handing him a bottle of water then and he took it with a groan, stumbling back to sit on Derek's bed and twisting off the cap to take a deep swig of the thing, a stream of water escaping the corner of his lip and trailing down his neck. Stiles pulled the bottle away and wiped at his mouth. "Thanks." He said when he was able to breath again.

 

Derek nodded stiffly across from him, turning away with a case of major brooding brows. Stiles arched a brow at him but didn't question whatever had set the brows in motion. He was too exhausted. "How long was I at it?"

 

"Almost two hours." 

 

Stiles nearly dropped the bottle. He stared up at Derek with wide eyes. "What? How is that possible?! Was I in a freaking trance or something?"

 

Derek shrugged, looking Stiles over a moment before speaking. "I think you just really needed a distraction from...everything. It seemed to work well. I was afraid if I let you go any longer you'd eventually pass out though, your heart beat had grown erratic."

 

"Dude." Stiles shook his head, still unable to believe he had spent a full two hours doing one thing. That NEVER happened. Maybe he had found a cure for his ADHD. Wouldn't his dad be happy. And his teachers....and friends....pretty much everyone.

 

"Are you hungry?" Derek asked suddenly and Stiles was about to shake his head when his stomach growled. Loudly. He cringed sheepishly, and Derek shook his head with a grin. "Come on, I'll make us something to eat."

 

Stiles arched a brow at that but followed Derek down the stairs, after grabbing his phone from the bed. "You are going to cook?"

 

Derek turned an arched brow over his shoulder. "Yeah. Is that a problem?"

 

"I dunno...is it?" Stiles drew out warily. "You're not going to like poison us are you?"

 

"No, Stiles. I'm not." Derek drew out dryly, heading into the kitchen and taking a frying pan down from a hook it was hanging on. "Rather you believe it or not, I'm actually pretty good at it."

 

Stiles arched a brow and watched him take some premade hamburger patties from the fridge. "Really? This should be interesting."

 

Derek finally gave a sigh, turning to glower at him. "Why don't you go rest and watch some TV. I'll bring it when it's done."

 

"Sure thing, Sourwolf." Stiles twisted on his heels with a grin when Derek's brows furrowed at the nickname. He left the kitchen and headed to the main room of the loft, falling down to lay on a couch, propping his cheek on his hand. He grabbed the remote to the TV and flipped it on, scanning through the channels a moment before settling on some daytime judge show and then remembering that Ryan had texted him earlier. He pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at it, seeing he had three new messages. One was from Scott, asking if everything was okay, and the other his dad, who pretty much knew he had ditched school and wanted to know why. How the hell had he found out anyways? Stiles quickly texted them and and let them know he was fine, telling his dad that important pack business came up. He then pulled up the third message and found it from Ryan.

 

***Trying not to sound like a total stalker, but I asked your friends if you were okay at lunch and they all kind of gave me death glares. Not really sure what to think of that. You there?***

 

Stiles sighed, realizing that he would have to text Ryan back eventually.  **Yeah, sorry I think I have the flu or something. And don't worry about them. They're weirdo's.** He pressed send, and after a moment lifted his phone again to send another.  **And you don't sound like a stalker, BTW. Just an adoring fan.**  Stiles pressed send before he could change his mind and all but hid the phone under the couch cushion, too embarrassed by his own stupidity. He had just started really getting into the show, watching two women bicker and one swearing up and down to the court that the other was secretly a hooker operating out of her house, when Derek padded into the living room on barefeet. Stiles stared down at them a moment before feeling like a major creeper and sitting up as Derek placed a plate with two hamburgers and some fries on the coffee table in front of him. Stiles arched his brow. "Oh, wow. Dude....I didn't really think you could cook." He said in slight awe.

 

Derek grinned and took a seat on his leather recliner, his own plate on his lap. Stiles noted that he had three burgers and a butt load more fries on his though and couldn't help but wonder if the man would really be able to eat all that. "What are we watching?" He asked as he picked up his first burger and took a bite that was almost a third of the entire thing. Damn. Man had a mouth.

 

"Oh I dunno. Some judge show. It's kind of interesting. This one lady is a landlord and the other is renting from her. Well kind of. She owes about two thousand in back rent. Anyways the landlord lady just threw out that she thinks the other one is really a hooker and taking..'clients'...from her house."

 

Derek snorted, stuffing some fries in his mouth. "Wouldn't she be able to pay rent if that were true?"

 

Stiles choked on a fry, sucking in painful gulps of air as he laughed. Across from him Derek watched him with a soft smile on his face before turning back to the TV. "Dude, Sourwolf, you gotta warn me before you make jokes." He picked up his burger then and gingerly took a bite, his eyes widening. "Wow...this is really good."

 

Derek gave a shrug of his shoulder, though by the tenseness of his jaw it was apparent that he was trying not to smile smugly. 

 

Stiles laughed softly to himself and took another bite as he continued watching the show. Surprisingly, he actually had an appetite, and he had finished all of his fries and all but half of his last burger before a soft snoring sounded from the couch.

 

Derek looked up with an arched brow and found him sound asleep, his plate sitting on his chest, rising and falling slowly with each breath. Derek stood and retrieved the plate, sitting it on the coffee table before standing over him and just watching him sleep. He was relieved. He knew that Stiles wasn't sleeping much and the fact that he obviously trusted Derek enough to fall asleep around him made something swell in Derek's chest. Derek moved back to sit again, but his gaze never broke from Stiles. He went over everything Deaton had told him today. About the darkness within Stiles that was slowly but surely trying to infect him. To what end, Derek had no idea. Even how the new danger had gotten there in the first place was a mystery. The fierce protective instincts of his wolf demanded to keep the boy close, never let him out of his sight...and the man in him felt much the same. Derek remembered when he had been teaching Stiles how to box just hours earlier, remembered the warmth of his body under his hands, the way the pulse in his neck quickened whenever he Derek touched him. Derek was not a fool. He knew what the signs meant, he just wasn't sure if Stiles was aware of it himself. And what about him, then? Even Derek had not been unaffected. He closed his eyes and inhaled deep, remembering the smell of Stiles as he had touched him, as he had drug in a deep inhale of the boy without him knowing. 

 

He wanted Stiles. It was as plain and simple as that. Not just his wolf.  _Him._  

 

More than that, though. The past few days Derek had began to recognize that he really cared deeply for the boy, more so than he had ever expected. It...was a confusing realization. And suddenly he found himself terrified of scaring Stiles away. It was obvious that while Stiles body may give off sure signs of his feelings, Derek didn't believe that Stiles himself was aware. The fact that a 17 year old had feelings for him, who was 25, should have put a tight lid on any possibilities, yet it didn't. Hell, Derek didn't even think he had a lid for this.

 

He wouldn't lie. His own feelings scared the shit out of him. He hadn't cared for- _really cared for_ \- someone like this in a long time. He had always passed through life with a certain mentality after the death of most his family. Don't get to close. Don't let anyone in. Don't become  _weak_. It was a mantra that he had said to himself every morning upon waking and every night before falling asleep. One that he had not found himself returning to over the past few weeks. And that fact was more than enough to make him rethink everything he had ever believed in. 

 

A low key vibrating sounded from the couch suddenly, and Derek furrowed his brows, looking at Stiles. Was it his phone? Was the boy laying on it? Rolling his eyes Derek decided to dig it out if he could, never knowing if it could be Scott or someone with new news. After fishing around Stiles a moment, who mumbled something in his sleep once and rolled to his side, Derek realized the phone was  _under_ the cushion and gave Stiles a dry stare before digging it out. He stood and looked down at the screen, seeing the name Ryan flashing. Derek licked his lips, glancing down at Stiles. He should put it down. It was obviously nothing important. But there he was, swiping the screen and pulling up the blinking message.

 

***I'm really starting to think you are a tease, you know ;) Not that I mind.***

 

Derek glared down at the phone a long moment, rereading the sentence about twenty times before scrolling through the rest of the thread. When he was done his hands were shaking slightly and his eyes were glowing blue. Without thinking he immediately deleted the newest message, wanting to erase the whole thread but knowing that would be a dead give away. He tensely returned the phone to its place and sat back down stiffly, glaring at the TV but not really seeing anything.

 

******************************************************

 

"Have I ever told you that you look so incredibly hot when you're holding something small and helpless in your hands?"

 

Scott arched his brows and looked down at Kira with a grin, trying to keep a grip on the now wiggling puppy that was working it's way up towards his face to land a few wet licks. "Oh, really?"

 

"Mm-hmm." Kira leaned over the counter, winking at him, and Scott leaned forward with a grin until their lips were touching.

 

"Not to interrupt, but I'm sure my clients don't particularly want to watch the two of you 'getting to know one another'." Deaton said as he entered through a door leading to the back, carrying a cat carrier in his hand.

 

"Oh, yeah sorry." Scott laughed and Kira blushed sheepishly while Deaton returned the pet to it's owner, talking to the older lady a moment before clasping her shoulder with a smile and sending her on her way. 

 

"And I'd be careful with that one. It's got flees." Deaton said with a wicked grin as he nodded towards the little golden fluff ball in Scott's hands before returning to the back.

 

Scott frowned and slowly pulled the yipping puppy away from him. "Is he right, Kira? Does it have flee's?"

 

Kira gave a small shrug, an apologetic grin on her face. "That's actually why I came. I need some medicine for it."

 

Scott rolled his eyes with a sigh, passing Kira's new puppy back to her as he turned and scanned the shelves before pulling down a small box and handing it to her. "Could have told me before."

 

"Why? Are you worried you're going to get flees?" Kira gave a mischievous grin. "Don't worry, I'll give you a bath and scrub you down if you do."

 

Scott blushed a bit at her words before frowning and grabbing the vet phone, placing it to his ear. "Hello?"

 

Kira arched a brow at him. "Uh, Scott it didn't ring."

 

"What?" Scott stared down at it in confusion before tilting his head and zoning in on his wolf hearing, realizing that he had actually been hearing Deaton's cell. "Oh, it was Deatons." He said sheepishly.

 

Kira just shook her head at him, laughing, before leaning forward and kissing him again, oblivious to the shameful stares of the people in the waiting area. After a moment Scott drew back, a deep frown on his face.

 

"What's wrong?" 

 

"Shh...." Scott held up his hand, tilting his head again and listening.

 

_Yeah, it was just found a few minutes ago, I haven't looked at the body yet but I can pretty much guarantee what I'm going to find once I cut it open._

 

Scott heard Deaton swear softly in the back room before speaking to the voice on the phone.  _"We still have no leads. Nothing to go on and I'm not having any luck discovering what this thing could be. I feel like all we're meeting are dead-ends."_

 

_I already told you, if you're that worried, you're going to have to see the Seer._

 

Scott frowned at the unfamiliar name, holding his hand up to motion for Kira to be quiet as she opened her mouth to speak. After a moment he heard Deaton continue.  _"He's dangerous. More dangerous than whatever this thing is, even if he is locked away at Eichen House. I'm not going to risk jeopardizing everyone."_

 

_He's the only one that will be able to tell you what this thing you are dealing with it. I'd think it was the lesser of two evils. And believe me, I know all about that._

 

Deaton sighed, and Scott could smell his anxiety.  _"Just...call me back once you've looked at the body, okay Hutchings?"_

 

_You got it. Don't let this drive you too crazy, Deaton. You'll find out. Somehow._

 

When the phone had ended Scott finally turned to Kira, his eyes wide. "There's been another killing." He said softly. "Someone just called and told Deaton."

 

"What? Do you know who it was?" Scott shook his head, glancing behind him before returning his attention to Kira. "That's not all, though. Whoever Deaton was talking to said that some man at Eichen House, called the Seer, would be able to tell him what was killing everyone."

 

Kira's eyes widened at the news. "That's awesome!"

 

Scott frowned. "That's just the thing. Deaton told him no. Said that he was too dangerous."

 

Kira shook her head with a frown. "So...there's someone who could tell us what's going on, but Deaton's not going to ask him?"

 

"No." Scott replied, looking back at the door before leveling Kira with a determined expression. "But we can."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay's for totally hot Sterek scene! lol


	17. Infected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott & Kira tell Derek about Deaton's conversation. Stiles goes home to a very angry John Stilinski. The next day at school, something happens that only brings more unanswered questions from the Pack

Somehow, against all odds, Derek had fallen asleep sitting there on the recliner. To be fair, though, he had hardly gotten any sleep the previous night, too worked up over Stiles' break down and what the darkness within him could possibly mean. So when the door to his loft suddenly swung open and Scott and Kira stomped in loudly, Derek for a moment pulled a Stiles, jerking awake, limbs flailing in confusion. He looked first to Stiles, who was still sleeping soundly on the couch, and then at Scott, who was staring down at Stiles with a look of extreme confusion, while Kira stood, her mouth in a silent O, her eyes shinning in amusement and some secretive expression that Derek couldn't help but feel weary of.

 

"Stiles?" Scott said, his head cocked in that familiar way as he tried to make sense of the situation.

 

Derek immediately stood with a glower, lifting his hand and pointing angrily to the door. "Out!" He mouthed without speaking.

 

Scott, ever the idiotic one, just cocked his head to the other side. "Stiles?" He said yet again.

 

Kira was the one that moved first, hiding her laughs behind her hand and grabbing a hold of Scott, dragging him backwards and back out of the door. Derek heard her say something about twenty dollars to Scott, who rolled his eyes, as he quietly moved towards the door, casting a quick glance to Stiles, who shifted slightly in his sleep but by his steady breathing and heart rate, would not be waking. Once he was out of the loft Derek shut the door behind him quietly before turning a glare to Scott and Kira, one who was still looking very confused and the other like she knew some grand secret and was having a hard time keeping it in. "What are you doing here?" Derek bit out, looking at Scott.

 

Scott's brows rose. "What is Stiles doing here? Asleep? On your couch?" 

 

Derek sighed, rubbing his hand over his face, knowing that the boy would not shut up unless he got an answer. "Stiles had a panic attack last night." He answered honestly, giving at least that much information. "Chris and I have started training him and he decided that he'd rather spend all day doing that instead of go to school."

 

A worried expression immediately came to Scott's face, and he looked at the door behind Derek's shoulder. "What?! Why did no one tell me? Is he okay? And wait...did you say you have been training him?" That last bit of information seemed to hit him then and his frown deepened. "Seriously?"

 

"Yes, Scott. He came to us the other day and we thought it would be a good idea. He's doing very well, actually." 

 

"Dude...is that pride in your voice?" If at all possible Scott's frown grew. He just wasn't understanding any of this.

 

"I think it's great." Kira spoke up, taking Scott's hand and entwining it in her own. "We all know Stiles feels like he's useless sometimes. Maybe this will give him a confidence boost."

 

"Now are you guys going to tell me what you're doing here?"

 

"We may have found a lead on the monster." KIra blurted out before looking apologetically at Scott. Clearly she had not been able to hold herself back anymore. 

 

Scott just smiled at her affectionately thought before turning to Derek. "It's true. At work today I heard Deaton on a phone call with someone. There's been another victim." Scott let the weight of that settle over them a moment before continuing. "But the guy was telling Deaton that if he wanted to know what was killing everyone, he could go to Eichen House and talk to...someone he called the Seer?"

 

Derek pulls back slightly in obvious shock at that, blinking down at Scott. "The Seer? That's what they said?"

 

"Yeah, why? Do you know who it is?"

 

Derek's face was awash in a mixture of dread and clarity, and he turned away with a deep sigh, running his hand his hair in obvious exasperation. "Yeah, unfortunately. Though it doesn't really refer to a single person. There are more than one."

 

Scott's shoulders dropped. "Dude, I'm just totally confused right now."

 

Derek released an annoyed growl. "Look, I'm sure you've heard of a Seer before-"

 

"Like in Greek Mythology?" Kira broke in? "The people that are supposed to be able to see the future? That kind of thing?"

 

"Kind of...not really. It's more than that. A lot more. While it's true that they do have the power of precognition, they're able to do a lot more. Every Seer is born with their abilities. With their third eye."

 

"Third...eye?" Scott drew out slowly, almost as if Derek had been making a joke.

 

"Yes, Scott, third eye. But they have control over it, and opening it. It's not like they're walking around with an extra eye in the middle of their forehead." Derek drew off then. "Well, only when they want to."

 

"This is totally too much." Scott finally said, looking at Kira who gave a small grin and shrugged.

 

"Yeah well you're going to love this next part. Seer's are said to be all powerful. Their third eye isn't just a spiritual gateway into other worlds, they can see into people with it. Look inside of their souls and know everything about them. And then they can use that as a weapon. They can induce a coma like state in people, trapping them in their own heads. What's worst is most don't even have control of their third eye, and almost all of them go mad."

 

Kira frowned. "Why?"

 

"Because their eye see's everything. Don't you think you'd be a little crazy if your head was filled with millions of images at once?"

 

"I never thought about it like that..." Scott drifted off. "So what are we supposed to do? Deaton said he was too dangerous and that he wouldn't see him."

 

"And he was right." Derek said.

 

"So we're just going to do nothing? We could have the answers! Put a stop to this thing before it hurts anyone else!" Kira said. "What if it's one of us next?"

 

Derek tensed at that, throwing a slight glanced back towards his door before sighing. "Okay. Fine. We'll do it. But not tonight. We need to prepare first."

 

"What about Saturday night? That new kid from school comes over tomorrow night. I don't particularly feel like canceling on that. It's just too weird that he shows up and things start happening."

 

"I agree." Derek said, a growl in his voice that didn't really make sense to Scott and Kira. "For all we know he could be the creature and we won't even have to go to Eichen House. Speaking of, if we do go we'll have to take Lydia with us."

 

"What? Why?" Scott frowned.

 

"Because if I get trapped in a vision, she's the only one that can pull me out."

 

"Okay. I'll send her a message and --"

 

"Shh!" Derek held his hand up quickly, cutting Scott off, his head cocked to the side. A second later Scott drew straight and cleared his throat, and a moment after that the door to the loft opened and Stiles stumbled through, his eyes still heavy from sleep.

 

He almost collided with Derek and stumbled back, looking at everyone with wide eyes. "Oh hey....why is everyone standing outside of Derek's loft." He eventually drew out, a confused frown on his face.

 

"We didn't want to wake you!" Kira said easily with a grin, and it was true really. 

 

"So..you were all just standing out here?"

 

The weirdness of that was not lost on the three as they shuffled uncomfortably a moment, searching for words. Finally Scott just gave a shrug and laughed nervously. "It is..what it is, man?"

 

Stiles stared at him with an arched brow a moment before shaking his head slowly. "Oookay? Anyways." He cleared his throat and looked awkwardly up at Derek. "Uh, thanks for today and sorry I kind of passed out in there."

 

Derek nodded stiffly. "It's fine, Stiles."

 

"...Yeah. So I've got to get back. My dad has sent about ten threatening messages and I have a feeling if I'm not home in about fifteen messages he's going to send a squad out looking for me."

 

"We were leaving too, so we'll follow you out." Scott said, taking Kira's hand.

 

Stiles blinked at him. "Didn't you guys have something to talk about or...something?"

 

They all looked at each other again, the silence expanding awkwardly.

 

"Scott was just coming to check on you. I sent him a message and let him know you were here." Derek finally offered, and it sounded totally believable and Scott and Kira relaxed.

 

"Okay. Yeah, my bad, Scotty. I should have texted you. Sorry."

 

"No problem. Uh, so I'll talk to you later, Derek?"

 

Derek nodded knowingly at Scott and the three began to head down the hall towards the lift, Stiles glancing briefly over his shoulder before turning again. Derek tried not to feel too excited about that.

 

*********************

 

 

"I don't care what excuse you come up with, you're never leaving this house again." Sheriff Stilinski glared down at his son, who was shifting guiltily on his feet. "Do you know how worried I was when we were told another body was found? Up until the moment I took a look at the kid all I could think about was that it was you! That you'd finally gotten roped too tight in all this  _shit_ and I had lost you!"

 

Stiles cringed visibly. "I know and I'm so sorry, Dad. I should have called you. I feel horrible."

 

"Good! You should!" John paced the floor of the living room a moment, his nerves obviously shot. "So what excuse do you have this time, huh?" He bit out.

 

"Something came up." He said meekly, which only seemed to infuriate his dad further.

 

"You had  _better_ give me something more than that, Stiles, or I swear for the rest of this semester outside of school the only walls you will see are the ones of your bedroom, and I'm not even joking."

 

Stiles frantically scrubbed his hands over his face. 'Oh my God! I had a freaking panic attack, okay dad?! I went to Deatons to try and find out how to control them and then I spent the rest of the day training so I won't feel so damn useless! THERE! Are you happy?!" Stiles swung around, really wanting to grab something and toss it, and eventually just fell onto the couch with a sigh of frustration, leaning his forehead on his hand. 

 

John looked much the same as he stood there, struggling to calm himself before he too fell on the opposite side of the couch, and the two sat in the exact same position a long moment, before John released a deep sigh, shaking his head. "Stiles we have got to start communicating more." He opened and closed his mouth a moment, struggling with words. "I feel like I've lost you..."

 

Stiles felt his gut clench painfully and he turned to his dad with a sigh. "I'm right here, Dad."

 

"No. No your not. You've been somewhere else the past few weeks and it's only getting worse. And it kills me to think that you're going through something alone because you never talk to me."

 

"I talk to you dad..." Stiles muttered guiltily.

 

"Not about the important stuff." John looked over at his son. "And I'm not talking about 'pack' things. I mean you, Stiles. I want to know what's going on with you."

 

"Nothing dad. I'm fine. Seriously." Stiles prayed that his voice did not waver as he locked eyes with his dad, trying his hardest not to glance away. After a long moment John just sighed and gave a slight nod.

 

"Okay." John stood, heading for the kitchen, before he left though, he paused, turning back to Stiles. "I just hope you realize that this thing we have between us - this trust....it works both ways Stiles."

 

Stiles nodded up at him after a moment, licking his hips. "Yeah. I know dad."

 

John nodded again before turning. "Alright. I'll make us some dinner I suppose."

 

Stiles watched him leave and for a moment just sat that, feeling horrible. He hated lying to his dad. Don't get him wrong, he could lay some fibs out quite easily, but never about something really important. He just...he didn't want to worry his dad anymore. Standing he made his way up the stairs to take a shower, his body aching from exertion, though in a good way. He felt really good about today. Proud of himself, even. He just hopped that by the time whatever it was that was killing people made itself known, he would be ready to face it. Like the others.

 

********************

 

That next morning Stiles picked up Scott in his jeep, and the moment his friend hopped in he took one look at him and arched a brow. "Is that....."

 

Stiles cringed instantly, wishing he had grabbed a jacket before he left. "Yes, it's Derek's shirt." He said before Scott could continue. "Don't look at me like that. It's laundry day and it's all I have."

 

"Do I even want to know why Derek's shirt is at your house?"

 

Stiles cocked his head slightly before shutting his eyes. "No. No you don't."

 

That made Scott's look of extreme confusion only grow but he surprisingly let the subject drop as Stiles started his jeep and pulled off of the curb. 

 

"So what did your Dad say about the latest victim?"

 

Stiles turned to look at Scott. "It was Jeremy Fisher."

 

Scott cringed. "Another person from our school. He was with the popular crowd too, wasn't he? Do you think that's the link?"

 

"It can't be. The first victim was in her early twenties and didn't know either of them."

 

Scott through for a moment before jerking his head up with wide eyes, obviously the invisible light bulb atop his head glowing. "Do we know what kind of person the first victim was?"

 

"I dunno, why?" Stiles frowned.

 

"Well, Jessica and Jeremy were both kind of bullies, weren't they?"

 

Stiles snorted, glancing over at Scott. "I don't know about Jessica, but Jeremy certainly spent a lot of his freshman and sophomore year making my life a living hell." Actually, just the other day he had shoved Stiles against a locker as he had passed. Stiles' shoulder had hurt all that day.

 

"Well I know that Jessica could be pretty cruel to other girls. What if that's the link?"

 

"A monster that kills bullies?" Stiles frowned. "I guess I can see that. We can't know for sure though unless we find out more about the first victim. But even if that's true, it can only mean one thing." Scott frowned at him and Stiles sighed. "It would have to be someone who was bullied by them. Which means--"

 

"They are most likely in our school."

 

Stiles nodded silently, and he could practically hear Scott's thoughts. "Look, I know that everyone is suspicious of Ryan, and man even I'll admit that it is a weird coincidence, but Scott I just don't think it's him."

 

"I know. But we have to be sure, Stiles."

 

Stiles shook his head. "So what? What happens when he comes over to Derek's loft tonight and nothing happens? Are you guys just going to drop it?"

 

"Just because he doesn't go all evil and attack anyone doesn't mean he's still not it, Stiles." Scott said softly and Stiles was silent, unable to deny the logic of that. Scott watched him a moment before speaking again. "Do you like him?"

 

Stiles immediately began scoffing, though after looking at Scott's still serious face he eventually sighed and shrugged. "I don't know. I mean it's nice when I'm around him. I don't have to worry about...everything. It feels normal."

 

Scott's expression shifted to one of hurt before he looked out the window.

 

"Ah, Scotty I didn't mean it like that!" Stiles immediately felt like an ass. "Come on man. I'm sorry."

 

"No, it's fine. I understand. I know that it must be hard for you at times being....." 

 

He drew off, but Stiles knew what he had been about to say. "Human." He finished, quietly. 

 

The drove the rest of the way in silence.

 

**************************

 

Stiles was just stepping through the door of Ms. Keene's class when someone threw an arm over his shoulder. "You're alive!" 

 

Stiles looked up at Ryan with a little grin, laughing. "Yes, I'm alive."

 

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Come on, try to sound a little more excited about it." He winked at Stiles before releasing him as he walked down the aisle to his seat. 

 

Stiles shook his head with a grin and sat down as well.

 

"So how bad was it? You look surprisingly well for a person who had the flu. Speaking of, doesn't that last a few days at least?"

 

Stiles turned until he was facing Ryan, a smug grin on his face. 'Well you know. We Stilinski's have a Superman like immune system. I knocked that thing out fast."

 

Ryan laughed at him a moment before suddenly frowning, his eyes looking upwards. "Dude. You must have been really sick. That or just have premature graying."

 

Stiles frowned. "Huh?"

 

"You've got a gray stripe in your hair." He leaned forward and touched the hair just above Stiles' left eye. "Actually, it's more white. Weird."

 

Stiles lifted a hand to the area, feeling his heart beat flutter. He spun around to see Malia slouched in her chair, half asleep. "Malia!" She jerked up with a snort, looking around a moment before turning to Stiles with a slightly annoyed expression. "Mirror, I need a mirror, do you have one?!"

 

Malia frowned a moment before fishing in her backpack and tossing the small compact mirror to him. Stiles caught it and immediately jerked it open with slightly shaky hands, holding it up and looking at his reflection. "Oh....oh shit." He breathed weakly, staring at the very white streak of hair. He stood, feeling the room begin to spin slowly and his breathing to quicken. He was vaguely aware of Ms. Keene calling to him, as well as Ryan, but he ignored them both, stumbling from his desk and to the door, fumbling with the handle a moment before finally leaving the room. He leaned against a wall in the empty hall as he moved, searching through his slightly hazy vision for the bathroom nearby. When he finally found it he managed to stumbled in over to a sink, staring up at his reflection in horror. White. It was white. Not all of his hair, but it was still there. Just like the victims had been. He looked away with a groan, his legs beginning to give out just as Malia and Ryan burst into the bathroom. He felt Ryan grab a hold of him as he went down, and Malia immediately crouch in front of him, grabbing a hold of his face. 

 

"Stiles....Stiles..." Her voice sounded incredibly far away and seemed to echo in his conscious. He felt calming, warm hands rubbing up and down his arms and eventually Malia's voice became more clear until after a few minutes, Stiles breathing had returned to normal again, though he still felt off balanced and hazy. "Stiles!" Malia said again, and he blinked a few times, licking his lips and nodding up at her.

 

"Yeah...I'm okay..." He whispered, leaning forward to sit, Ryan pulling away from him slightly to come to his side.

 

"What just happened?" He drew out slowly, worry evident in his voice.

 

Stiles looked up at him briefly before pulling his gaze away, mortified. "Yeah sorry...I have these attacks sometimes...."

 

"Stiles..." Malia breathed softly and he looked at her to see her eyes locked on his head. 

 

He took a hard gulp and nodded, and she paled, pulling away and shoving the back of her hand to her mouth.

 

"Guys why do I feel like something is happening right now that I know nothing about?" Ryan voiced, looking between Stiles and Malia.

 

Stiles gave a weak laugh. "Welcome to Beacon Hills." He was struggling to a stand when suddenly a loud crash sounded directly outside. They all froze, their limbs locked. "What the hell was that?"

 

Ryan helped him draw straight and shook his head. "I don't know."

 

Malia glanced at Stiles before slowly moving forward, and Stiles and Ryan followed her. She was reaching out a hand for the door when another crash sounded and they all jumped. Taking a deep breath Malia pulled open the door and they shuffled out, looking down the hall to see a guy in a letterman jacket walking slowly downward. His shoulders were slumped, and his head down, and a baseball bat in his hand, it's tip currently dragging against the floor. Stiles saw a few lockers smashed in and knew what the loud banging had from from then. Just then the boy stopped, pulling the bat back and slamming it loudly into another locker, and the three of them jumped again.

 

"What is he doing?!" Ryan drew out anxiously.

 

"I have no idea..." Doors began to open then, and teachers step out, followed closely by a few students. "But I have a feeling that it's not going to be good."

 

Stiles watched as a male teacher approached him with a serious frown, but he couldn't quite make out what he was saying. And then, without a slight hesitation, the boy lifted his bat and hit the man across the face. The loud crack that sounded through the halls made a chill shook down Stiles spine, and he had a sickening feeling that the teacher would not be getting up again from where he had fallen. At that time chaos broke out. Teachers and students screamed, a few rushing forward to try and stop the boy, most taking hits that they were going to feel for a long while after that.

 

Beside him Stiles heard Malia released a deep growl before moving forward. He grabbed a hold of her arm immediately. "What are you doing?!"

 

"I'm not going to let him just keep hurting people!" She hissed at him with furious eyes before jerking away and rushing forward. 

 

Stiles swore and moved to follow her.

 

"Is she crazy?!" Ryan cried behind him.

 

"You don't know the half it." Stiles muttered as he pushed through the crowd, looking for any signs of Scott. Someone who could stop Malia!

 

Then Malia had pushed past everyone and was standing behind the boy, her head lowered in a predator like way. "Hey!" She screamed out.

 

The guy in the letterman jacket swung around, and Stiles felt his breath catch in his throat. He recognized the jock. He was a sophomore that was on the football team. But there was something wrong with him. His eyes were sunken in and large black circles made it look like he hadn't slept in years. His skin was pale, shockingly so. And his hair was streaked with white. Stiles automatically lifted a shaking hand to his own white lock, feeling like he was going to slip into another attack. Malia noticed the white hair as well and turned to look at him with wide eyes. She didn't see the bat coming. Stiles sucked in a strangled gasp as it hit hard against the back of her head, and her eyes rolled back in her head as her body went down. He released a cry of horror and rushed forward, managing to grab her before she hit the hard floor and did anymore damage. Her eyeslids were fluttering and she would not wake up when Stiles called her name, and the hot redness that coated his hand almost killed him.

 

"Stiles!" Stiles jerked his head up just in time to see a bat coming towards him. Before it could hit, though, Ryan had slammed into the boy's side and sent him colliding with the lockers, the bat thankfully falling from his grasp and rolling away. It didn't take him long to regain his footing though, and when he did he lunged at Ryan with a beastial like cry, and picking him up threw him hard against the lockers on the other side of the hall. Even after Ryan had slid down the lockers, unconscious, the boy still kept advancing, and realizing that he could kill Ryan Stiles jumped up and grabbed the bat from where it had rolled. 

 

"Hey!!" The boy turned to him and Stiles slammed the bat against his face. He stumbled back slightly, before shaking his head like it had only tickled. Stiles felt the blood drain from his face. "Oh shit." Before he had time to flee the boy's fist slammed hard against his cheek and Stiles went down with a cry of pain. He fell beside Malia, who was still unconscious. Looking up at the crazed boy Stiles began scooting backwards, his heart pounding erratically in his chest.

 

All of a sudden a loud roar filled the hall and Stiles turned to see Scott rushing forward, red eyes flashing and fangs and claws out. The jock met Scott's roar with one of his own, and the two raced for each other.

 

Stiles turned his head with a cringe and shut his eyes at the sound of them colliding, while Lydia and Kira slid to his side, looking him and Malia over. "Oh my God are you okay?" Lydia asked, her eyes tearing up immediately as she took in first Stiles and then Malia. 

 

Stiles ignored the question, crawling over to Malia. "Is she...."

 

"She's breathing." Kira said, releasing a sigh of relief. "What the hell is going on?!"

 

"I have no idea." Stiles looked up just as someone ran past him, and saw Liam wolfed out, rushing to help Scott. After a few minutes the two had finally gained the upper hand, and the jock went down, lying still on the floor.

 

Scott and Liam stood over him a moment longer, their chest's rising and falling in quick movements from exertion.

 

"Is he...."

 

"We just knocked him out." Scott said, breathless. When he turned to run back to them his wolf was leashed again. Liam moved to join him, immediately sliding to a stop beside Malia, his hands trembling as he touched her face.

 

"What the hell just happened?"

 

Scott said, staring at the boy on the ground.

 

"I have no idea. But I have a feeling it's not good." Stiles said softly.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :O very intense chapter. Hope you guys liked!


	18. Stronger Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the hospital Melissa & John give the pack unfortunate news. Derek is there for Stiles during his time of weakness; strengthening him. The pack bonds once again.

Stiles closed his eyes, taking in a deep breathe and focusing on blocking out the sounds of everyone around him in the hospital. He placed his hands over his ears, sitting his elbows on his knees as he bent forward. Deep breathe in through the nose...deep breath out through the mouth. Deep breathe in through the nose....deep breath out through the mouth. The silence that slipped into his conscious was warm and comforting, a welcome retreat from the chaos around him. Like all silences, though, they are meant to be broken. This time it was from Scott, who laid a warm hand on his shoulder.

 

"Stiles...are you okay?"

 

Stiles drew in one last breath and exhale before pulling his hands away and looking up at his best friend, whose warm brown eyes were watching him worriedly. "No, Scott. Not really. But I don't think any of us are." He answered honestly, lifting his gaze to look at everyone sitting in the waiting room. Lydia was chewing on her nails nervously, Kira beside her, looking just as anxious. Malia and Liam were huddled together in a corner, Liam every once in a while taking a hold of Malia's face and staring at her, as if he was making sure that she was okay. Her head had healed eventually, and she had stopped bleeding. Her hair was still sticky with the red substance, though, and Stiles cringed at the sight. Stiles glanced up to look through the window of the room where Ryan was getting checked out by Melissa to make sure he had no concussion. 

 

Shortly after Scott and Liam had knocked the sophomore out - Paul, his name turned out being - the jock had awoken and to everyone's horror began vomiting a thick black substance. Stiles and the pack had stood there...and watched him die. It had been so...shocking, and confusing, that they had just stood there a long moment, eyes wide and filled with disbelief. Not too long after that Sheriff Stilinski and Parrish had shown up, and seeing Paul they had called an ambulance. But it had already been too late. There was nothing to be done. School had been cancelled and everyone had been ushered out of the building, gossip already beginning to spread. The thought sickened Stiles. Someone had died...and all they could do was whisper about 'drugs' and how Paul had gone insane. And though the later may have been right, Stiles knew without a doubt that Paul's state had not been a normal one. He had acted crazed...unaware of his own actions. 

 

And then there was the thing that no one was talking about. The white in Paul's hair. Just like the white in Stiles. 

 

Stiles felt his gut clench and pulled away from Scott to stand, beginning to pace. What if whatever had been wrong with Paul was going to happen to him? What if he went crazy as well, no longer able to control his own actions? Oh, God he didn't want to hurt anyone anymore.

 

"Scott?"

 

Stiles looked up as Deaton appeared, the man looking everyone over with brows drawn low, his gaze landing on Stiles and lingering. 

 

"Oh, thank God." Scott moved to meet him, and Deaton finally pulled his gaze away and looked at Scott. "Something happened at school. Some guy he....I don't know he went crazy. He started attacking people. There was something wrong with him, Deaton. He was really pale, and had these super dark circles under his eyes like a zombie. And his hair..." Scott drew off, and Stiles could she his shoulders tensing and knew that he didn't want to put Stiles on the spotlight.

 

"Some of his hair had turned white." Stiles answered for him. "Like the victims.....like mine." He added, his voice choking at the end and he could feel panic bubbling to life. "Deaton what if whatever happened to this guy happens to me? What if I hurt someone? I don't want to hurt anyone else." He choked out, stumbling backwards and holding up his shaking hands, staring at them like they were covered in blood. "I have this thing, whatever it is. I know I do. What's going to happen to me?"

 

"Stiles..." Scott moved forward, his eyes pained. "It's okay. We'll figure it out I swear."

 

"You don't know that!" Stiles yelled, drawing a few eyes from other people in the hallways. 

 

"Yes I do. We'll take care of it, Stiles, I swear. Nothings going to happen."

 

"Like nothing happened last time?!" Stiles all but screamed. No one said anything, understanding immediately what he was referring to. "I can't do that again.....no no no I can't..." He stumbled backwards, feeling the room beginning to sway. "Not again...I'd rather die first..."

 

  
"What the hell is happening?" Came a sharp voice and everyone turned to find Derek marching towards them with an intense frown.

 

Scott gave a sigh of relief at the sight of the older man. "Stiles...he..."

 

Derek looked up from Scott to see Stiles jerking quick looks left and right, almost as if he was expecting a demon to appear at every corner of the room. Derek immediately pushed past Scott, his head lowering, and moved towards Stiles, his stride still powerful. "Stiles." He bit out when he was close to the boy.

 

Stiles jerked his head up and visibly cringed when he saw Derek, beginning to shake his head jerkily as he stumbled back. "No. Everyone needs to stay away from me."

 

Derek ignored him, continuing to advance. "Stop!" He bit out before suddenly grabbing a hold of his shirt and jerking him forward.

 

Scott let out a growl and immediately moved forward but Deaton laid a firm hand to his shoulder and shook his head in silence. 

 

Stiles cried out, pushing against Derek and when that did nothing he started hitting him. "Get away from me!" He screamed, his heart pounding in his own ears. 

 

Derek took his hits, until he landed a particularly good one to his chin and then he just growled, grabbing a hold of Stiles arm and holding it far from his body. With only one had all Stiles had left was to claw at Derek's hand clenched on his shirt. "You need to stop being so afraid!" Derek bit out, dragging the boy closer until their noses were almost touching.

 

"Why?" Stiles screamed in his face. "I'm useless. I can't protect everyone!"

 

"It's not your damned place to protect everyone, Stiles!"

 

"Then what is my place!" Stiles was able to jerk his hand free from Derek and with a cry of fury pushed hard against the wolf's chest, sending him stumbling back a few feet. Stiles advanced on him, his eyes blazing. "What am I, Derek? What place do I have with any of you? There is  _nothing_ I can bring to the group!"

 

"If you really think that then you're dumber than I thought!" Derek hissed, jerking his hand back to point at everyone without looking. "Have you forgotten how many times you've saved their asses? You've saved mine?! This feeling sorry for yourself thing is bullshit, Stiles! Since when did you ever give up, huh?"

 

"Maybe since I'm the reason people are dead!" 

 

"And you think you are the only one with that scar on your soul?!" Derek gave a loud, mocking laugh, throwing up his hands. "We all have darkness inside of us, Stiles. All have baggage. The point is you don't fucking dwell on it! You stand up and force yourself to keep moving. Have you ever thought of anyone but yourself these past few months? How do you think they feel, with you dwelling on what happened, not willing to let it go? You're dragging everyone into that darkness with you Stiles and it is selfish."

 

Stiles drew back like he had been hit, looking behind Derek at everyone. They all had their heads lowered, not meeting his eyes, and in that moment Stiles realized what he never had before. It was true. The more he lingered on what had happened, the more he brought everyone else down. Here they were, trying to move on, and he wasn't letting them. Stiles stumbled backwards in horror at what he hadn't even realized he had been doing. "Oh God...I'm so sorry..." He choked.

 

Derek sucked in a deep, unsteady breath before moving forward, staring down at Stiles. "You need to rely on them more, because they're more than just your friends, or 'pack', Stiles. They are family, and you've been pushing them away for weeks now."

 

Stiles was about to deny it, to argue that everyone had been distancing themselves from him, and in the end he couldn't. It was true. He had been so caught up in his own guilt that he had been unknowingly pushing them away, feeling like he wasn't good enough to be their friends anymore. All those times Stiles had felt secretly jealous because Scott was hanging out with Kira....Scott had just stopped asking to do things together because Stiles always came up with excuses. All those calls and text messages from Lydia that he ignored. And Malia...Oh God. Stiles looked up at her, finding her watching him hesitantly from under her bangs. He had pushed her away too, hadn't he? And she had lashed out the only way she knew how, through anger.

 

Stiles clenched his jaw, looking up at Derek with a lost expression. "I'm so afraid that I'll disappoint everyone." He whispered, even though they could hear. "I'm so weak."

 

"Stiles, you aren't weak." Derek reached up and clasped his hand around Stiles neck, bringing his head forward slightly until their foreheads were almost touching, and Stiles stared down at Derek's chest, swallowing hard to try and not break down. "And just because you lose the battle today doesn't mean you will next time. You'll be stronger tomorrow." Derek growled out then, tightening his grip. "Say it."

 

Stiles licked his lips, hesitating a moment before repeating what Derek had said. "I'll be stronger tomorrow."

 

"Again." Derek growled out.

 

"I'll be stronger tomorrow." Stiles repeated, his first tear spilling. 

 

"Again! Make it your mantra."

 

Stiles sucked in a deep breath. "I'll be stronger tomorrow." He said, his voice stronger, holding more conviction. "I'll be stronger tomorrow...I'll be stronger tomorrow...."

 

"Good. Don't ever stop saying it in your head." Derek said, and after a moment grinned. "Now are you good? Cause I'm sure quite a few people are staring at us right now."

 

Stiles snorted softly but nodded his head, and with a smile Derek pulled away and took a step back, and Stiles tried not to admit just how much the loss of his touch affected him. He licked his lips nervously and looked up at everyone.

 

Scott was the first to move forward, his jaw clenched and eyes bright. Without a word he grabbed Stiles and hugged him nearly to crushing. 

 

"Whoa..easy..." Stiles laughed and then squeaked when Kira all but ran and collided with them, wrapping her arms around him too. The next thing he knew Lydia was moving forward, crying freely, and then Malia followed suite, and even Liam, though he looked a bit awkward as he did so. In the end the six of them stood there all hugging each other, like a bunch of weirdo's. When they finally pulled away Stiles noticed in large embarrassment that Melissa and his father were standing nearby. Melissa immediately moved forward with a relieved smile, pulling him in for a hug.

 

"God I've missed having you at the house. I never thought I'd say that." She said with a laugh before bending his head forward and kissing his forehead.

 

Stiles laughed a bit shakily. "Yeah. I've missed your meatloaf. I've been stuck with this guys awful cooking." Stiles said, looking up at his dad who looked like he was struggling not to cry.

 

John Stilinski sucked in a deep breath and moved forward, pulling his son into a hug that was somehow even more crushing than Scott's had been. Stiles sighed and patted his dad's back. "I'm fine, Dad." He said softly. about ten times until the Sheriff finally pulled away and with a gruff clearing of his throat looked around him. 

 

"Well I've got some...I'll just....I'll leave you guys alone a bit but after there's something Melissa and I need to discuss with all of you, okay?"

 

Stiles frowned and looked between the two before nodding. "Okay, Dad."

 

The two nodded and smiled again before turning and walking down the hall. 

 

Derek stood back, watching as the other's crowded Stiles again, going in for yet another hug, and couldn't help but smile softly. He caught sight again of the deep purple bruise marring Stiles cheekbone and released a low growl at the bastard that had done it, telling himself to be sure to help him in easing the pain later. Suddenly Deaton was standing beside him, a smug grin on his face. Derek looked at him and rolled his eyes immediately. "Don't...say....one word."

 

"I'm not." Deaton muttered, quiet a moment before shrugging. "It's just--"

 

Derek closed his eyes and sighed.

 

Deaton picked up immediately, not the least bit bothered."I think you're good for him, Derek. You challenge him. Push him. While everyone else tries to mend what is broken in him, you encourage him to fix it himself; and ultimately that makes him stronger."

 

Derek glanced sideways at him. 'Why do I feel like the wheels in your mind are turning?"

 

"I'm just noticing things I've failed to before. And what I find most surprising, perhaps, is that I believe he makes you stronger as well."

 

"He's only seventeen." Derek drew out, watching as the group laughed together, something Derek had not seen in a long time.

 

"That's very true. But at the same time, I think you are full aware of the fact that he is far from a child." Deaton was quiet a moment, looking at everyone. "I see so much greatness in him. And I honestly think that you, more than anyone else, will help bring that out."

 

Derek didn't say anything, just continued watching them, glad to see that as each second passed the strain seemed to be leaving Stiles' face, and the weight lifted from his shoulders, and glimpses of his old self were slipping through. 

 

At itching starting at the back of his neck suddenly, and Derek frowned, before turning his head slowly to look a little ways behind him. A boy was standing just inside of a room, leaning against the entrance way. His body was relaxed, calm, but his eyes were locked onto Derek's. Unflinching. 

 

****************************************************

 

 

"So I hate to do this after...well everything...but we've got some bad news." Melissa ushered everyone into a large room so they could speak privately before shutting the door behind her.

 

Stiles released a sigh. "Why can't we ever have good news?" He whined, sitting on one of the chairs in the room. 

 

Scott and Kira hopped up on the hospital bed and Liam and Malia stood together against a wall, while Lydia moved to sit beside him with a smile, wrapping an arm around his, and Stiles tried not to cry at how much he had missed being her friend. Derek moved to stand just behind him and Deaton took another of the chairs, sitting in rapt attention. 

 

"Tell me about it." Melissa muttered with a roll of her eyes before taking out two folders and handing them to Deaton. "One of the folders contains Paul Stewert's chart. I thought you would want to go over that."

 

"Thank you." Deaton nodded eagerly, taking it. He looked at the second folder. "And what is this one?"

 

Melissa glanced over at John with a sigh. "It's Tracey Whitmore's chart."

 

"Whose Tracey Whitmore?" Scott asked with a frown.

 

"I believe that's my cue." John Stilinski pushed off of the wall and cleared his throat. "The other day we got a call about a lady making a ruckus on the street's downtown. She was attacking people, and by the time we got there she had managed to get her hands on some broken glass and was trying to stab some people."

 

Stiles drew straight immediately, a frown on his face. "What? Why didn't you tell me? Are you okay?"

 

John cast a stern frown Stiles' way. "Well at the time we weren't really doing much talking. But yes, as you can see I came out okay. Parrish got a few cuts but other than that he's fine. But what was so weird about this was the way she looked. Pale. Dark circles under her eyes." John's gaze lifted to Stiles hair, and everyone could see his hard swallow. "Hair streaked with white."

 

Lydia squeezed Stiles arm when his face fell, and he smiled softly at her.

 

"So we take the woman in and put her in lock up. The next morning she's throwing up some weird black stuff and we have the ambulance come pick her up."

 

"Is she okay?" Kira asked, looking between John and Melissa.

 

Melissa hesitated a moment before shaking her head. "She died by nightfall."

 

"Oh..." Deaton looked down at the files in his hand a moment before nodding. "Okay. I will take these back to my clinic. With their charts it should help in figuring out exactly what's causing this."

 

"It's got to be connected to the creature though, right?" Scott asked. "I mean...how could it not be? Especially the part with the white hair."

 

"You're right. The similarities are too great to be just a coincidence."

 

"So what is this thing doing to these people?" Scott shook his head in confusion. "I mean, first it was killing. Why stop?"

 

"I'm not sure. I'm still trying to find out what the creature could be. It's possible that it's started infecting them and--" Deaton drew off suddenly his eyes widening slightly.

 

Stiles wasn't sure how he knew, but he could have sworn he felt Derek flinch behind him and practically radiate tenseness.

 

"I know that everyone is trying to tiptoe around the subject." Stiles finally said, getting everyone's attention. "But we've all seen the streak in my hair." He looked down, licking his lips. "I think we can pretty much agree on what it is now."

 

"I refuse to believe that." John said, moving towards his son with a glare. "And even if it's true, it doesn't mean anything."

 

"John's right." Deaton said, looking up at Stiles. "If this thing has infected you, there are steps we can take to slow the process until we find answers on how to find and defeat it."

 

"Steps?" Stiles frowned.

 

"Yes." Deaton glanced up at Derek, who was standing rigid. "I will go through my books when I get back and let you know immedietly. But I think in order to have a general time frame of when these...victims, start to lose control we'll have to find out exactly when they started showing signs."

 

"Well Stiles only has one streak in his hair." Kira offered. "I know Paul had a lot. That has to mean something."

 

"You're right. It does." Deaton nodded and then stood. "Now, if you will all excuse me, I'm going to start doing some research. Sheriff, do you think you could find out when the other's started showing signs?"

 

John nodded. "You got it."

 

"Good. Okay everyone, I will speak with you soon." And with that Deaton turned and left the room.

 

They were all silent a moment before John sighed. "And I've got to get back to work."

 

"So do I." Melissa gave Scott a brief hug and smiled softly down to Stiles again before heading out as well.

 

Stiles stood as his dad approached and laughed softly as the man pulled him against his body tight, for a long moment not letting go. 

 

"You be careful, okay?"

 

Stiles snorted. "Aren't I always?"

 

John shook his head fondly before leaving.

 

"What are we supposed to do now?" Malia asked after a moment of silence.

 

"I don't know. Are we still going to the loft?" Scott looked at everyone.

 

"Are you kidding? After the day we've had we deserve some pizza and movie time." Stiles scoffed and hopped up from his chair. "That is is the Big Guy here doesn't mind?"

 

Derek arched a brow down at him but nodded. "It's fine."

 

"Alright!" Stiles patted him on the arm before heading for the door. "Don't know about you guys but I could use some tylenol. Scott ima go chase your mom down real quick."

 

"Okay." Scott said with a laugh.

 

Stiles grinned at them before leaving the room, and his cell phone went off from his pocket almost immediately. Fishing it out he found a message from Ryan and swore softly. He had totally forgotten about him in all the chaos. Was he still somewhere here?

 

***Hey, sorry I had to leave. The people I'm staying with were blowing up my phone. Are we still on for later though?***

 

Stiles immediately began to text back. " **I am if you are. Didn't know how up to it you would be after today. You don't have a concussion or anything like that do you?"** A few minutes later another message chimed in. **  
**

 

**LOL. No I'm fine. Besides I really want to properly meet all of your friends. What time should I be there?**

 

Stiles pursed his lips a moment in thought. " **Six good?"**

 

***Great. Just send me the address and I'll see you there."**

 

As Stiles strolled down the hall happily he suddenly remembered again that he hadn't really invited Ryan over just so they could hang. He had invited him because his friends thought he was evil. Stiles groaned and hung his head. Just when the day was getting better......

 

He prayed that tonight wouldn't be a disaster, and that everyone would realize that Ryan was...well, just Ryan.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhhhhhh i swear i really cried during the first part of this chapter lol 
> 
> way to go Derek. Way to go.


	19. Together Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack begin going over possibilities of the monster

After making a quick run home to grab something Stiles met up with everyone elses at Derek's. School was already out so everyone figured they might as well get together and brainstorm over the recent events. After parking his Jeep Stiles headed for Derek's loft, nearly falling on his ass when Kira appeared out of no where, practically football tackling him from the back. Stiles stumbled forward slightly, it wasn't like she weighted more than a buck ten. If even that. "Whoa...Kira..." He said a bit awkwardly, which apparently Kira wasn't the least bit uncomfortable because she leaned around him and placed a quick peck to his temple with a grin, before winking and hoping down, running back to Scott, who was walking towards them with a grin. Looking at them Stiles went over the few times that he had been standoffish and maybe even a little rude to Kira in the past few months, jealous of her relationship with Scott. The fact that she was still so friendly with Stiles only proved how genuine her character really was, and Stiles felt bad that if he hadn't been so defensive the tree of them could have had a really amazing friendship. They still could, he though, grinning at Scott as he approached and slung an arm around his shoulder, his other around Kira's waist.

 

"So what did you go to your house for?" Scott asked as they entered the lower area of the loft and headed for the lift.

 

"I had to grab something. I will let you guys know once we're in with everyone else." Scott nodded, needing no further information, and they waited until the lift had stopped again before pulling open the door and headed around the corner to Derek's door. Scott didn't bother knocking, seeing as the wolf would already know it was them, and just opened the door and walked through. When Stiles entered he immediately heard Lydia's laughter, quickly followed by Malia's, and couldn't help the small smile that caught his lips. He had missed this. His friends. Just hanging out with everyone. Even if they were coming together to hunt down a killer, at least they were together. When he entered the room Lydia turned from where she was leaning over a couch talking to Malia and Stiles almost groaned when he saw she had a bottle of wine in her hand. "What's that, Lydia?"

 

Lydia gave one of her posh smiles and swayed forward mischievously. "Well I just through if there was every a day we needed a drink, that would be today."

 

Stiles frowned at her. "You do realize that almost everyone here can't get drunk, right?"

 

"I know I can!" Kira chirped in, skipping to Lydia with a grin and grabbing the bottle. "Where are the glasses?"

 

"I just sent Derek for them." Lydia said, clearly thrilled that she would not be alone in drinking.

 

"And he actually agreed?" Stiles asked a bit surprised.

 

Lydia gave him a look that seemed to say 'aww poor thing'. "Of course he agreed. It is me, after all." And that was enough said.

 

"Now I'm not going to have a problem with a bunch of drunken teenagers in my loft, am I?" Derek came out of the kitchen, carrying a few wine glasses.

 

Lydia scoffed prettily and took the glasses, pouring first some wine for Kira, then a glass for Stiles and lastly one for herself. "Now Derek, I'm sure we all know our limit."

 

"Yeah, and yours isn't much more than a glass or two." Scoff grinned and Lydia glared at him before taking a sip. "I ordered some pizza, it should be here in about thirty minutes or so." Lydia spun on her heels with a huff and moved to sit on the couch beside Malia and Liam, who were watching her with a curious, if not bewildered expression.

 

Stiles looked away with a grin and noticed that Derek was staring at him. Or rather his shirt. Or rather _his_ shirt. Feeling his cheeks burn hotly Stiles lifted the rolled up paper in his hand. "Okay so I was thinking, guy, why none of us ever thought to use the deadpool list as a possible suspects list."

 

Derek's brows did a familiar high five to his hairline. "That's...actually very smart."

 

"Aww. Thanks Big Guy. I mean I don't wanna brag or anything--" Stiles drew off, clearing his throat when Derek's gaze turned dry, but had that been an amused twitch of his lips???

 

"Stiles your are incredible!" Scott slapped him on the back before grabbing the list from his hands and looking through the pages. "There are still so many people on here that we have no idea about what they may be."

 

"Yeah I know." Stiles leaned forward to look down at the list. "I tried to cross out the ones I could remember, and anyone I may have spoken to at Lydia's party that I talk too as well. I think we should all have a look at it and do the same."

 

Scott nodded and looked around a bit before moving into the living room and spreading the papers out on the coffee table. "You got any highlighters or pens, Derek?"

 

Derek nodded silently and left the room to go retrieve them while everyone else crowded around the table. Stiles crouched on his knees, resting his elbows on the table. "Now a few of these people told me what they were, but I'm still not too clear on what that is exactly, which is why I brought the bestiary." He pulled out a flash drive from his pocket and Liam made a sudden grunt before digging around in his book bag and pulling out a laptop. "Niiiiice." Stiles grinned at him before handing him the usb. Liam grinned back a bit sheepishly and started his laptop up, entering the drive.

 

"Well I remember this girl." Lydia spoke up, pointing to a name. "She had on this hideous orange dress that was ridiculously cut."

 

Stiles stared dryly at her. "Um-huh. Okay. And while we all greatly appreciate your eye for style, you wouldn't happen to have found out what kind of supernatural creature she is, would you?"

 

Lydia pursed her lips and glared at him, but a few seconds later her glare turned into a grin and she nodded. "Yes, Stiles. She said she was a succubus. Which is why i saw her with like 5 different guys that night." Stiles just blinked at her a moment.

 

"Did you happen to get her number?" Scott laughed beside him, while Lydia rolled her eyes.

 

"Here you go." Derek appeared then, leaning over and dropping the highlighters on the table. Stiles gave a quick thanks and grabbed a bright green one, popping the cap and crossing out the girls name. He grabbed his wine glass and took a few more sips before returning it to the table. Derek came to stand behind him then, and Stiles twitched slightly when he felt him leaning over to get a closer look at the list. The guy was so close he could feel the body heat radiating off of him.

 

Across the table Kira suddenly jabbed Lydia with her elbow and with her eyes motioned for the red head to look. Lydia glanced up with a frown before a grin caught her face and she looked back down, hiding her lips behind her wine glass.

 

"This one is a shifter." Derek leaned further more, pointing to a name on the list. "I've actually seen him around town a few times. His sister is one too, her name should be on here somewhere....ah, there."

 

Stiles chewed on the cap of the highlighter as he nodded and Scott crossed out the names. He tried not to think about how Derek's breath was blowing hotly on his left ear. He tried to shift forward slightly but was already against the table. Jerking his glass he took a chug of his wine. Lydia grinned across from him and refilled it to the top much to Kira's delight. Finally, Derek took a seat on the couch behind him, and Stiles released an inward sigh of relief. He was having some pretty bad hormonal problems lately. It was really starting to worry him. Maybe he should see a doctor? For a half hour they went over the list, trying to remember anyone they may have met, and in the end they came away with only 8 names that were unaccounted for. It was a great number. A number that Stiles could definitely work with. A number that they could all work with, as everyone happily agreed. There was only one problem, and before Stiles could even voice it Derek was beating him to it.

 

"So what are we supposed to do? If I remember correct the rest of the people on the list don't even know what they are." Silence and fallen faces.

 

But of course Stiles was there to save the day. Or at least he liked to pretend. "Well, eight isn't that big of a number. And there are seven of us here alone. With my Parrish that's eight. We can do this the old school way. Everyone split up and do a stakeout."

 

"I don't really like the idea of everyone splitting up." Scott frowned, clearly not comfortable with the possibility of his pack mates being hurt. Stiles shrugged.

 

"Well we could always pair up. It would take us longer but it could still work."

 

"Okay, so let me get this straight." Lydia cleared her throat and pursed her pink lips. "So we just sit outside of someone's house all night, waiting to see if they go monster on us. And what if nothing happens? Do we just cross them off the list? I mean it could still be them, right?"

 

Stiles blinked a moment. "Okay...yeah I didn't think of that." He released a tired sigh and sat, leaning back against the couch and throwing his arms over Derek's legs at each side of him. "Well does anyone else have any bright ideas?" He drew out sarcastically, glancing at everyone and beginning to notice they all had a very similar and odd look on their faces. Pure shock. Nevermind. Scott was just looking like he was awkward as hell. "What?" He said with a frown before turning around to look at Derek and realizing he was _on_ Derek. "Oh my God!" He drew out loudly, jerking away to a stand. "That totally just happened." He said with wide eyes darting around the room, anywhere but at the deathly still and brooding Derek. "i..uh....what?!" His arms were pointing left and right as he desperately searched for something to run away too. Almost miraculously there was a knock at the door then, and Stiles jumped. "Pizza!! That's the pizza! Uh...!!" Without another word he swung around and rushed out of the room, feeling his face burning. Stiles all but broke the door as he pulled it open, and the pizza boy standing outside jerked back in surprise, looking at Stiles wearily before clearing his throat.

 

"Uh...pizza delivery..."

 

Stiles gave a awkward laugh and nodded, digging in his pocket. "Sure...how much?"

 

The kid looked at the receipt after watching Stiles a moment with an arched brow. "Twenty-eight sixty."

 

"Twenty eight....twenty...." Stiles sucked in a deep breath, nodding his head a moment before jerking around. "Anyone got any money!!??"

 

Lydia strolled up behind him, rolling her eyes, and handed the boy a twenty and ten. "Keep the change." She said with a grin.

 

The boy smiled back and cleared his throat, clearly about to flirt, and Stiles rolled his eyes and slammed the door on him, balancing the two pizza's in his hand.

 

"Stiles?" Lydia stood with a small grin, staring up at him prettily.

 

"Yeah?" Stiles choaked a little too loudly.

 

"Stop being weird."

 

"Will do." He plastered a grin on his face and moved to the kitchen, being careful not to glance towards the living room as he passed. Which ended up being pointless, cause Derek was leaning against the sink with a corona to his lips. He lowered it when he saw Stiles and drew a bit straighter. "Uh...I'm just gonna...put this here.." He sat the pizza's down and opened the lids before, against his better judgement, he glanced up at Derek with a small frown. No. Nevermind. Just ignore it.

 

"Stiles." Derek drew out with a sigh, rolling his eyes. "What is it?"

 

"I just wanted to know why you drank those." He said, nodding towards the beer. "I mean...it's not like you can get drunk, right?"

 

Derek was quiet a moment before giving a slight shrug. "I just like the taste, I guess."

 

Of course. That made perfect sense. Nothing odd about that.

 

Derek sighed again. "Stiles..."

 

"It's just that I don't understand why you would even get a taste for them. I mean, you're a born werewolf, right? You must have always known you couldn't get drunk from them."

 

Derek shut his eyes and took a deep inhale before setting the bottle on the counter behind him and looking at Stiles a moment before shrugging. "After what happened...when i lost my powers..I was more or less human. And...well, let's just say I was drinking a lot at that time."

 

"Oh." Stiles said softly, for the first time beginning to understand just how hard the change had been for Derek. And he had never let any of them know. Never let them see it. He couldn't help but smile softly at that. Ha. Sounded an awful lot like another guy he knew. Something struck him then and he tilted his head with a frown. "Hey...I seem to remember a time when all this..." Stiles wiggled his fingers at Derek. "Wasn't really all that and you had a certain...younger glow, let's just call it."

 

Derek stared at him dryly. "Stiles are you really trying to scold me about underage drinking?"

 

At Derek's pointed look towards the living room...where underage drinking was going on, Stiles gave a nervous laugh. "Yeah...um...I'm just gonna grab some of these and....yeah." He grabbed a few pieces of pizza and swung around, leaving the kitchen in a hurry. As soon as he stepped out, though, he jerked to a halt when he found everyone standing right outside, Lydia and Kira at the front. He frowned. "What's going on?"

 

"You done?" Lydia asked, blinking her large green eyes quickly.

 

"Uh....i guess?" Stiles replied, though he wasn't entirely sure he even knew what the banshee was talking about.

 

Lydia nodded and walked past him to the kitchen, Kira following behind, her hands clasped behind her back and giving Stiles a grin that was completely devious and secretive. Stiles watched them go with a major scowl, totally confused. "What just happened?"

 

"They just wanted to give you time to further your..." Malia frowned, looking down and thinking. "Lydia what is it called?" She yelled towards the kitchen as she walked.

 

"Bromance!" Lydia called back from somewhere in.

 

"Yeah, that." Malia gave a factual nod and pulled an equally confused Liam with him, while Scotty followed up at the rear, not quite making eye contact.

 

"Scott? Scotty? What's going on man?!"

 

"I...have to go get pizza." Scott stumbled over his words in that adorable way of his before practically running away from Stiles.

 

Stiles just stood there, his mouth open and his shoulders slumped. "Bromance?" After a moment he jerked in realization, beginning to scoff. "Very funny!" He yelled before his face fell to a glare and he stomped back to the living room. Bromance. Ha! Just the idea of him and Derek having a bromance was laughable. It was ridiculous. They hated each other. Okay so maybe that wasn't the case anymore. But they still managed to really annoy the crap out of each other. Which, sure, may be fun at some times. And okay, yeah, maybe sometimes Stiles deliberately did it just to tease the wolf. Stiles almost choked on his pizza at his own thoughts. Not tease that way, obviously. Just..in a friendly unromantic way. Yeah. It was totally normal. Nodding his head, satisfied with his own logic, Stiles fell back in the recliner with his legs hanging over the side. Yeah, yeah. He knew it was Derek's 'spot', but the wolf was in the kitchen at the moment drinking beer for some weird reason when he couldn't even get drunk. So, in the age old ways of 'you snooze, you loose', the recliner was his. And he wasn't giving it up for anything.

 

 

 

 

*********************

 

Scott grabbed a slice of pizza and took a large bite, grinning happily at the greatness of it. He watched as Lydia scoffed around the kitchen before Derek finally rolled his eyes and handed her a few plates, and she passed them out to everyone before daintly picking up a piece of pizza between pinched fingers and walking out of the kitchen. Liam and Malia piled their plates high and left while Kira grabbed two and shot him a kiss that he, embarrassingly, caught. He could feel Derek's eye roll like a physical stab to the back. "Follow you in just a moment." Scott said to Kira, who nodded with a smile and left to return to the living room as well. Scott took a moment and finished the rest of his slice before grabbing another, clearing his throat. He chanced a hesitant glance to Derek and found the man staring at him impatiently. Clearly knowing that he was meaning to say something. Scott grinned and took another bite, deciding to make him wait a little longer.

 

"Scott!"

 

Scott grinned and finally set his plate down. "Yeah. There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

 

Derek did not look amused. "Obviously."

 

"What's up with you and Stiles?" Derek choked on the gulp of Corona he had been in the middle of swallowing, the back of his hand over his mouth as he coughed.

 

"What?" He was finally able to rasp out with wide eyes.

 

Scott practically rolled his eyes, cause yeah, that totally hadn't given anything away. "Earlier in the hospital, I've never seen you talk to anyone like that before." He looked up at Derek. "Not even your old pack." He added softly.

 

Derek inhaled a deep breath, looking at Scott a long moment. "I was just trying to help him." He knew sooner or later someone was going to be able to spot the change in him. He just hadn't expected it to be Scott, out of everyone. The kid was usually as dense as they came, and somehow people even found that adorable about him. Teens these days really confused Derek.

 

"Yeah, which is weird too."

 

Derek frowned at that. "How can me wanting to help a friend be weird? You do it all the time."

 

"Because I wasn't even aware that you considered Stiles a friend." Scott answered, eyes not wavering from Derek's. Determined.

 

In that moment Derek caught a glimpse of how he had become a true Alpha. "Of course I consider him a friend." Derek said softly, though his hand clenched around his bottle.

 

"And when did this happen, exactly? You usually make it quite clear that you just find him annoying."

 

"I still find him annoying!" Derek bit out before reining his emotions in and scrubbing a hand over his face. "Scott what is this about?"

 

Scott stared at him a moment. "You guys are hanging out. He was sleeping on your couch yesterday, Derek. He's wearing your shirt! You're freaking shirt, man!" Scott gave a frown and those puppy eyes lit up. "You've never let me wear any of your shirts."

 

 

Derek shook his, so very confused by all of this. "So you want one of my shirts?"

 

"What? No!" Scott swung away with a loud sigh, throwing his hands up. "I'm saying you're treating him how I've never seen you treat anyone else. It's like....almost like..you guys are dating." He couldn't quite hold back how the last part grossed him out.

 

Derek snorted, looking at Scott like he had lost his mind. "You're serious right now!"

 

"Well, yeah! And I'm not the only one that's noticed it, either."

 

What did _that_ mean? "Scott....for the love of God...okay. I am not...." Derek shook his head. Hell, he couldn't even say it. "Me and Stiles aren't....argh! Just NO."

 

Scott somehow seemed insulted. "Dude...Stiles isn' t that bad."

 

"What? No! I didn't say he was. I know Stiles is...." He drew off, cause what the hell was he supposed to say  _there?_

 

"Oh." Scott frowned. "So you do like him?"

 

"What?! No! I--" Derek released a growl of annoyance, massaging the space just above his eyebrows. "Scott I can't talk about this anymore!"

 

"Fine!" Scott visibly deflated as he grabbed his pizza and grumpily turned to head out of the kitchen. He paused just before leaning though, and glanced sideways, Derek in his peripherals. "It's just...he's my best friend, you know? He's been through a lot and it looks like he's finally coming back to us. I just don't want anything to happen."

 

Derek looked at Scott a moment before nodding. "I know. Neither do I."

 

Scott released a sigh and turned, leaving the kitchen.

 

Derek stood against the counter a moment, thinking on everything Scott had said, and the more he thought about it, the more bewildered he became. What _was_ his relationship with Stiles? Friend? Mentor? At his core, the most basic and raw part of him, the part that was pure instinct and animal, it felt so much more than that. There were so many unsaid things lingering between them. Things that Stiles most likely had no idea about, because let's face it, while Derek could pick up on things like scents and emotions, Stiles could not. But if he could.....Derek had a feeling that he wouldn't be able to hide anymore. From Stiles...or himself.

 

Sighing with a bone weary force, Derek left the kitchen after grabbing a plate of pizza and headed into the living room. He found everyone piled up on his one couch, which he would have thought impossible. Apparently not. Stiles, though, was leaned back relaxed on his recliner, a grin on his face as he watched some ridiculous midday telenovela that seemingly featured...yup. A guy in a  Lucha Libre mask. Why? Just...why...Derek was about to tell him to move his ass from his recliner but when he saw Stiles snorting in laughter at something said in dramatic Spanish he decidedly changed his mind, and instead sat his pizza down on the coffee table with everyone elses and just leaned back against his recliner. Stiles seemed to ignore him completely as he continued to chuckle.  

 

On the couch though, Scott suddenly rolled his eyes and leaned back, digging in his pocket, which was a little difficult seeing as Kira was presently sitting in his lap. He finally was able to get what he had been searching for though, and after muttering with a frown slapped a twenty dollar bill into her outstretched hand. The girls face was practically breaking from her grin.

 

Derek just arched his brow at the two before beginning to eat his pizza and watch what was most likely going to be the most horrible tv show ever.

 

Teenagers these days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know this is mostly filler, but I just felt like we really needed a chapter that showed everyone coming together again like in the old days. Just a really sweet, easy chapter. Next chapter will be where Ryan comes so....yeeah.....that's going to be fun lol


	20. He's Just Fragile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A somewhat tense meeting between Derek and Ryan as the pack tries to find out if he is hiding anything. Stiles may or may not get drunk, and lots of feels may or may not happen...followed by jealous...maybe lol

After the pizza had been finished off and a few more hours of binge watching Netflix, Lydia had suddenly piped up that she wanted to see how Derek was training Stiles. Stiles had moaned and groaned that he was already exhausted from the day, plus his arms were still feeling like noodles, but Lydia had pursed her lips and gotten that defiant 'i don't care what you say this is happening' look on her face and after turning a pleading face to Derek the wolf had actually sold him out. Shrugging those wide shoulders and saying something about the more he trained the less strenuous it would be. So somehow they had ended up at the top floor of the loft. It was clear by how irritated Derek got when everyone started snooping around and inspecting the area that he had never allowed them entry, and Stiles could help the little fist pump of victory he gave himself. Because he was thrilled at the idea of causing Derek misery when he was about to kill himself training. It had nothing to do with the fact that he felt maybe a wee bit privileged and special to have seen the top most floor before everyone else. In the end Stiles had stood there glaring at everyone as Derek had wrapped his hands again, frowning when Lydia and Kira moved together to start whispering. Apparently whatever they had said had irritated Derek, though, cause he had tensed up and his jaw had gotten that stone hard chiseled tightness to it before he had moved away.

 

As Derek had moved to grab a hold of the punching bag and keep it steady Stiles couldn't help the nervous glance he cast to everyone else, who were watching his with expectant grins on their faces. Especially Scott. Wanting to hide under a rock Stiles tried a jab and felt his face go blood red when he somehow managed to miss the bag altogether. He heard Lydia snort before trying to pass it off as a cough and this time did groan.

 

"Hey. Look at me, Stiles."

 

Stiles arched a brow and turned to look at Derek, and damn if he didn't feel hypnotized by the softly glowing blue of his eyes. 

 

"If you want to be successful in this, you're going to have to learn to block all outside distractions. Distractions get you killed. Now concentrate."

 

Stiles licked his lips and nodded, drawing straight and trying again. His fist landed. Smiling a little he continued, switching from a jab to right cross each turn, and soon found himself much like he had the other day, emerged in it completely. 

 

It wasn't until he heard Lyida say 'Am I the only one whose suddenly finding Stiles a lot more attractive right now?' that he snapped out of it, stumbling forward and face planting against the bag. He groaned, pulling back and holding his nose, hearing snickers from across the room.  Glaring at everyone he began fumbling with the cloth and tape around his hand until he started ripping it off. "Very funny.'

 

"It was a compliment!" Lydia huffed before grinning.

 

Stiles couldn't help but smile sheepishly and turn away in embarrassment, realizing that he was very hot and just a bit sweaty. He grabbed the front of the henely and pulled it away from his chest, airing his skin. Suddenly Derek released a deep rumbling growl and Stiles turned to see where he had been holding the punching bag, that his fingers now had sharp claws on the end, and they were presently dug into the bag. "Dude?! What are you doing?"

 

Derek very carefully removed his claws before stumping over to his dresser across the room, making everyone hurriedly get out of the way. He jerked open a drawer and grabbed another shirt and some sweats and practically stomped back to Stiles, shoving them against his chest. "Shower.  _Now."_

 

Stiles gaped open mouthed at him a moment before swinging around and stomping to the stairs himself. "Oh my God!!!! Freaking werewolves!" It wasn't like he stunk  _that_ bad! Did he?

 

Once he was down the stairs Derek took a deep, calming breath. He really had to get it together.

 

"Dude....so not cool." Scott said suddenly, shaking his head as he passed towards the stairs.

 

"Someone had to go and make this  _awkwaaaaard_." Lydia sung out.

 

"Go. Now!" Derek bit out and they all hurried out, most snickering. Except for Liam, who looked rather confused, and Malia, who had a very strange look on her face like she was thinking hard about something. It wasn't until Derek heard her say something along the lines of 'So would they do it like they do in the wild?' that Derek really felt like breaking the large glass window in the room and stabbing himself in the face. It was just reaching three o'clock, and they had many hours to go before the day would be done. Derek couldn't help but feel like it would never end.

 

 

*******************

 

As the hours bore on, the pack began to visibly deflate and the easy going laughter to quiet. Everyone knew what tonight had really been about, and though they had spent most of the day cutting up and just enjoying each other's company, once the sun began to shift lower towards the horizon the reality of everything came crashing back in heavy waves. Stiles paced the area of the living room behind Derek's couch, chewing on his thumbnail and every so often pulling up the sweatpants that were a little too big for him, even with the ties pulled all the way. 

 

"Stiles I swear if you do not sit down!" Lydia hissed at him, jerking up to kneel on the couch facing him.

 

"I can't help it!" Stiles hissed at her. "I still think it's pretty messed up what you guys are doing. Ryan's a good person, and he already thinks you guys hate him."

 

"I don't know what you're talking about." Lydia huffed.

 

Stiles stared dryly at her. "He told me that he tried to talk to you guys at lunch the other day and you all basically glared at him until he left."

 

"Hey that's not true!" Liam frowned like he was deeply insulted. "I told him hey.....and then everyone else glared at me." He finished with a mumble.

 

"See! That's exactly what I'm talking about!" 

 

"Stiles everyone is just being safe." Derek said from where he leaned against the wall a few feet from him. "We all know that just because a person looks innocent doesn't mean they actually are."

 

Stiles was not so oblivious to miss the personal angst in his words. He fell down onto the couch, laying his head on the back with a sigh. "Look. I know that, for us, it's logical to be suspicious in situations like this. But come on guys...I don't want to believe that everyone who comes into our lives is bad. I just...I don't wanna live that way." 

 

A silence fell over everyone as Stiles words settled. Almost each and every one of them had been through such a situation and knew how it felt to be betrayed by someone they had considered close. And like Stiles, they too still clung desperately to the belief that that wouldn't always be so. But as the old saying went, 'Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice....'

 

They had all been fooled so much that at this point, it was hard to expect anything else.

 

Stiles phone went off then, and he jumped slightly, digging it out of his pocket he found a text from Ryan. "He's here..." He looked up at everyone as they drew straight, and hated that they all got that hard 'time for business' look about them that Stiles had seen more than once to know that shit may very well be about to hit the fan.  "Guuuuuy! Just...for the love of God act normal, okay?" 

 

"He's coming up the stairs." Derek drew out tensely then and Stiles groaned before swinging around and heading for the door. He opened it and leaned out, looking down the stairs and sure enough hearing someone climbing them. Licking his lips Stiles fiddled a bit with the door way before Ryan's head popped into existence. "Hey!"

 

Ryan looked up, spotted Stiles and grinned. "I'm really starting to regret taking the stairs." He laughed, huffing a bit as he finally stood before Stiles, who he looked over with an arched brow.

 

Realizing that he was regarding his baggy sweats and lose henley Stiles gave a nervous laugh. "Uh, yeah. I showered and didn't have any cloths with me so had to borrow someone else's. They're actually not  _that_ baggy..I'm just that skinny....yeah.... Anyways! Why'd you take the steps that had to suck. There is a lift, you know."

 

Ryan smiled a bit sheepishly then, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. I may have been a little nervous about meeting everyone."

 

Stiles balked at that. "What? You? Nervous? Nah, that's not possible!"

 

Ryan gave one of those charming grins then that he was accustomed to. "Just because I flirt vicariously with you doesn't mean I don't get a little nervous around other people, Stiles."

 

Stiles frowned at that. "Wait, isn't that backwards? Aren't you supposed to be nervous around me if you like me?" He realized what he had said then and blushed hotly. "I mean, not that you do like me! I mean unless you do! Which I would be okay with either! I mean----" Stiles drew off, wanting to hide under a rock and die.

 

Ryan laughed fully, shaking his head. "Go inside Stiles before I do something that's really going to embarrass you."

 

"Yup." Stiles cleared his throat and immediately turned to head back into the loft, and stumbled to a halt when he found everyone standing just inside, staring at him like he was the most pathetic person alive. Except for Derek, who was staring at him like he wanted to murder. "Oh my---what are you guys doing!?" He hissed before Ryan approached. "Oh hey, it's Ryan!" Stiles laughed nervously, clasping Ryan on his back. "Ryan this is...everyone?"

 

Lydia was the first to step forward with a grin, holding out her hand. "Lydia Martin, nice to meet you."

 

"HI, Lydia. Ryan. Nice to meet you as well."

 

Scott moved forward next, clasping Ryan on the shoulder with a grin. "Hey man, you remember me and Kira?" He motioned behind him where Kira gave a little jump and wave. 

 

"Yeah I think I met you guys my first day. Good to see you again."

 

Stiles cleared his throat and pointed to Malia. "And you know Malia since she's in class with us. And that guy right there is Liam."

 

Ryan nodded with a grin to Liam before turning to Malia. "Hey. You're Stiles' girlfriend, aren't you?"

 

Stiles' mouth dropped open as an awkward moment fell over the group and he realized he had never told Ryan they had broken up. "Uh, yeah. Well we aren't really dating...anymore....so yeah."

 

"Oh...I'm sorry." Ryan clearly looked just as uncomfortable as everyone else.

 

"No it's fine!" Stiles laughed, trying to clear the air. 

 

Ryan nodded after a moment and looked up. "And who is this?"

 

Stiles followed his eyes and spotted Derek hanging at the back, practically trying to murder Ryan with his eyes and gave an inward groan. "Uh..that is Derek. This is actually his loft."

 

"He doesn't go to school with us, does he? He looks a little...old..."

 

A few snickers rang out and Stiles really prayed that Derek didn't wolf out at that comment. "Uh, no. He's twenty-five. We've all just known each other for a few years. Well, me Scott and Derek and Lydia. And actually me Scott and Lydia have known each other since we were kids." Stiles realized he was rambling and tried to calm himself a fraction. "Anyways! What are we all standing here for. Ha ha....let's.....head to the living room... _please_." Stiles said the last part so low that only the supernaturals in the room would be able to hear his plea. 

 

Scott nodded and turned to head in there first and Stiles almost shut his eyes and sighed in relief. So far....okay so it may be a little shaky but that was to be expected. Stiles grinned at Ryan and motioned for him to follow him as he went to the living room. He took a seat on the couch and offered Ryan a spot beside him. Kira and Lydia joined them, and Stiles glared at them over Ryans head when they all had to squish together. Lydia just grinned and shrugged before turning those beguiling green's to the other boy.

 

"So. Ryan. Tell me about yourself."

 

Ryan arched his brows and looked at Stiles before shrugging. "Uh. Sure. Well I'm and exchange student. Obviously. I had never actually left the country before this."

 

"Awesome. So how do you like Beacon Hiils?"

 

"It's great, actually. I mean, aside from the really weird stuff that happened this morning."

 

"And the murders." 

 

Stiles closed his eyes in horror. Annnd it was all downhill from here.

 

"Murders?" Ryan frowend at Lydia.

 

"Yeah. You know, the people that's turned up dead."

 

"Oh, yeah. I remember them announcing it at school, and I think I saw some stuff on the news. I don't really watch TV that much though, so I'm not really aware of what all happened, but I thought they said those students all died in their sleep? All except for the one that Stiles found."

 

Stiles cringed at the memory.

 

"Well there were actually four bodies. Only two were from our school. But yeah some people are saying that they were murdered."

 

Ryan looked at her, Lydia making it quite clear she was waiting for him to comment on it, and he just shrugged his shoulders a bit, nervously. "Uh, yeah, sorry. I hadn't heard anything about that. But yeah. That's bad...I guess?"

 

"Well of course it's bad, Ryan." Lydia drew out in a disappointed tone and Stiles could finally take it no more.

 

"Wow! So this is great and all but you know what could make this  _really_ fun? Some more alcohol. Why don't Ryan and I go get it?" Stiles stood immediately and suddenly a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and pushed him roughly back onto the couch.

 

"No, why don't we let Lydia and Kira go get it. We want to talk to Ryan, after all." Derek said with a feral grin, his eyes practically glowing.

 

"Oh my God." Stiles choked behind his hand, looking away.

 

Ryan couldn't appear any more uncomfortable. He shifted nervously, looking from everyone, clearly starting to rethink ever coming.

 

Lydia stood with a huff and gook Kira's hand. "Fine. We'll be right back." She glared down at Ryan before twisting away with a huff and pulling Kira behind her, who was glancing over her shoulder at Scott with a apologetic expression. Scott just nodded at her with a grin.

 

"So, Ryan." Derek moved to head for his recliner, seeing Liam sitting in it and just standing there a moment, glaring down at the boy. Liam immediately jerked up and moved to sit beside Malia on the floor and Derek took his seat, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and continued to give Ryan that predator like grin that was more just a baring of teeth. "So what part of Ireland are you from?"

 

"Dublin." Ryan drew straighter, clearing his throat. 

 

"Oh, the capital." Derek's eyes practically glowed. "How convenient."

 

"Dublin!" Stiles cried out after a very long awkward silence. "So that's cool, right guys?"

 

"So you're here by yourself?" Scott spoke up. "You must miss your family."

 

"Unless he doesn't have family, because he killed them." Malia said frankly.

 

Ryan blinked in visible shock at that. "What?!"

 

"Wow!! Malia! We've already told you that jokes not funny." Stiles looked at Ryan, clearly desperate. "She has a horrible sense of humor, you know."

 

Ryan stood up, holding up his hands. "Okay, I'm getting a really weird vibe here. Maybe I should just go."

 

"No!" Stiles jumped up, and as everyone looked at him he struggled to find words that would make sense. "Uh, okay I'm sorry I know everyone is acting weird. They're just....they're very protective of me, you see?"

 

Ryan frowned. "Protective?"

 

"Yeah! Cause...welll....." Stiles scratched the back of his head with a hesitant grin, clearly fishing around in his head for anything that made sense.

 

"Stiles is fragile." Scott suddenly blurted out.

 

_Oh, my God someone kill me now._ Stiles held his head in his hands. Mortified. Out of all the things he could have said,  _fragile_?? Really??? Way to go Scotty.

 

"Fragile..." Ryan drew out slowly, looking from everyone before turning to Stiles with an arched brow.

 

"Yeah it's just...he get's these attacks sometimes, right? He has since he was a kid." Scott offered, his voice growing more and more convincing by the second.

 

"It's true." Malia muttered. "He is pretty fragile. This one time--"

 

"Whoa!!! Okay yeah let's not go there." Stiles jerked his hands out in front of him to cut Malia off, who simply shrugged and looked away.

 

Ryan arched a brow at her a moment before looking at Stiles. "Attacks....like what happened at school? And in the hospital?"

 

Realizing that Ryan had seen his freak out at the hospital Stiles groaned. God could this day get any worse?

 

"Yeah like that." Scott spoke. "So we can be a bit...protective of him, because his attacks can be set off pretty easy sometimes."

 

Ryan turned to look at Stiles to confirm everything, and Stiles gave a deep sigh before smacking his lips and nodding. "Yup. You know my secret now. I'm... _fragile..."_ It took everything he had not to glare at Scott as he said the last word.

 

"Oh....I'm sorry?"

 

"Yeah...thanks man...Anyways. Now that that's over. Everyone can act normal, right, guys?" Stiles turned his glare from every one of them.

 

Scott finally gave a sheepish grin and turned to Ryan. "Yeah. Sorry. We'll stop being weird."

 

"See!" Stiles laughed and turned to look at Derek who was still glaring. "Derek...we're going to be nice, right?"

 

Derek's glare darted to him and Stiles took a gulp, silently begging. Finally Derek forced a very slow and very unnerving tight lipped grin on his face and turned it to Ryan. "Sure."

 

Just then Lydia and Kira came through the door, carrying two cases of wine coolers. Lydia looked over the group with a frown. "What did I miss?"

 

"We've just all agreed to stop acting weird." Stiles drew out pointedly, trying to speak with his eyes. "Ryan always knows that you guys are just really protective of me because of my panic attacks."

 

Lydia frowned. "Really?" At Stiles crazy eyes she jumped slightly. "Oh, yeah. Totally. Well, I got more alcohol!" 

 

"And we got something a little more sweet since you didn't like the last one Stiles." Kira offered, picking up a girly wine cooler and handing it to him.

 

Stiles took it very slowly, closing his eyes and about ready to call it a night and climb under his covers at the house and just sleep. Forever. "Thank you." 

 

"No problem!" Kira winked at him and hopped over to Scott, throwing herself onto him and planting a large kiss on his lips.

 

"Drink, Ryan?" Stiles offered with a tight smile.

 

Ryan grinned at him, a little twinkle in his eye, before nodding and taking it from him.

 

Stiles immediately grabbed another from Lydia and twisted the cap off with his lid. 

 

Well. It was a done deal now.

 

He was going to get wasted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg...i SO enjoyed writing this chapter lol ahhhh the tense manbattle between Ryan & Derek is just so nice lol


	21. Animal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut smut smut smut smut yeeeeess

As Stiles had expected, the next hour was tensely spent with the rest of his friends smoothly trying to get any information on Ryan that could lead to him being the creature. And though it had been a crash course in the beginning, the Pack had somehow managed to go about it without making it look the least bit suspicious anymore. It just seemed like they were asking him a lot of questions about himself. Which was actually pretty normal seeing as they had only just met. Stiles knew though, and couldn't help but still feel perturbed as he threw back wine cooler after wine cooler. And Stiles couldn't help but feel bad for poor Ryan. The guy had forgiven everyone so easily for their weirdness and was now talking and laughing with everyone with complete and utter trust. The fact that they(and  _he_ ) were tricking the guy ate away at Stiles' conscious until he couldn't stand it anymore and he excused himself to go to the restroom. It had just been a lie, but after standing up it was like a dam broke and suddenly he was tripping over Kira sprawled on the floor trying to get there. He had always had trouble holding his liquor. And he was  _not_ dwelling on the fact that a girly wine cooler that may or may not have tasted like strawberries on it's way to getting him drunk. No use destroying what was left of his manhood after Scott had coined him  _'fragile_ '.

 

For a random, stupid moment an old movie he had seen when he was a kid flashed through his mind, seeing an image of a man leaning over a large crate box and trying to read out the word 'fragile' on it's front, and instead pronouncing it 'fra-geelie-'; and suddenly Stiles was snorting in laughter. Which he had to rein in immediately because the extra force was starting to make him spurt and well, you know the saying.  If you sprinkle when you tinkle....no missfires.....sprinkles are made for cupcakes not toilet seats.

 

Yup. Snorting laughter back in full. 

 

Finally done with his business (and making sure there was none left behind thank-you-very-much) Stiles teetered out of the bathroom back towards the living room. When he didn't see Ryan he frowned. "Where'd my Irish friend go?"

 

Scott frowned at his choice of words before nodding towards the kitchen. "He went to grab another piece of pizza."

 

Stiles bobbed his head a few times before looking around again. "Where'd the brooding one go?"

 

Yet again Scott frowned. "Derek? He followed him...."

 

Stiles stared slack jawed before throwing up his hands. "Are you all insane! He's going to  _eat_ him!"

 

"I..am pretty sure Derek wouldn't eat him Stiles." 

 

"Then he'll just so something totally douchy like push him really hard against a wall! Or threaten to rip his throat out with his teeth!" Why was no one else seeing the horror of this?!

 

"Pretty sure Derek only does that to you." Lydia mumbled absently, looking down at her nails. "Which makes so much more sense now. Though someone really let Derek know he's not in kindergarten anymore and pulling the pigtails of the girl he likes isn't going to work."

 

Stiles stared at her a long moment before blurting out a loud and confused 'Huh??'

 

Lydia rolled her eyes and with her perfectly manicured hand shoo'd him away. "Oh, just go check on them if it's bothering you that much."

 

"Yeah. I'll do that!" Feeling like he had somehow won some brilliant battle Stiles headed to the kitchen, deciding to take it slow so as not to alert Derek of his approach, hoping to catch him in the act of doing something horrendous. 

 

To the rest of the pack sitting in the room he looked like a one of those old time cartoon spy's as he moved forward slowly, insinuating his leg stretch and lifting his arm out with each step. 

 

"Oh my God no one give him anything else to drink." Lydia said, staring at him grossed out.

 

Scott just nodded, having witnessed such behavior plenty of times before when Stiles was drunk. 

 

Stiles slid with his back pressed against the wall until he was close to the edge of the kitchen entrance way and he heard voices. Deciding to risk taking a peek he moved until one eyeball and a small amount of forehead were in the open and stared at Derek and Ryan, who were luckily at the opposite side of the room and both not really facing him. Derek was standing bone still, his shoulders back and stiff and his head down, and Stiles recognized the predatory like stance. He had seen it more than enough directed at him. 

 

"You going to tell me what that was about at the hospital?" Derek drew out in that dark rumble of his that Stiles was secretly very jealous of. How the hell did he get his voice so deep??

 

Ryan seemed to be not the least bit intimidated, though, and suddenly Stiles felt like he should most likely worship him for that. And maybe ask if he could be his apprentice or something. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

 

Derek scoffed. "Don't play dumb with me. I know it was you. I saw you looking straight at me. Why? What were you doing?" A threatening tone came to the wolf's voice and even though Stiles was no where near them he felt a shiver shoot down his spine.

 

Ryan sighed in a way that very much resembled boredom and yet again Stiles nearly ran in there and bear hugged the guy. Did he have no fear at all or something?! "What do you want me to say?" He gave a slight shrug. 'It was obvious after your's and Stiles' exchange in the hospital that there is something between the two of you, and while I couldn't hear most of what you were saying, I can ready body language pretty well. I guess I was checking out the competition."

 

Yeah! Take that Derek! He was just checking out the competition! --Wait what--

 

Stiles jerked his head back with huge eyes. Checking out the competition? What had Ryan meant by that? Well, it was obvious what he had meant, but why had he said it to  _Derek_?! As if Derek were competition. Which was the most ridiculous thing Stiles had ever heard. In no world, real or fantasy, would Derek ever be competition. Because that would have to mean that Derek was sexually attracted to him, and that idea was so insanely laughable that it took everything Stiles had not to let a bubble of giggles spill out. I mean come on. First off, the wolf looked like he had just stepped off of BeefCake Central magazine. Second, he had always made it annoyingly clear he found Stiles...well..annoying.  And third....okay he didn't have a third reason but numbers 1 and 2 were plenty enough! Stiles chanced another peek and almost squeaked when he saw that Ryan was turning and heading to the living room. Stiles jerked his gaze around for anywhere to run, and in the end just pretended it best to be as a fly on the wall and slide slowly down the hall and close his eyes, praying that Ryan would not glance his way.

 

Stiles had his eyes closed for a good twenty seconds before he dared to squint through one lid. He yelped and stumbled back when he found Derek standing in front of him, arms over crossed over his chest. 

 

"You do realize that i could hear you the whole time, right?"

 

Stiles laid a hand against the wall to steady himself before clearing his throat. "Um, I'm not sure what you're talking about. I just came out of the bathroom."

 

Derek shut his eyes and sucked in a deep, calming breath. "You  _do_ realize I can tell when you're lying, right?"

 

Stiles blinked up at him a moment. "I'm not sure what you're talking about. I just came out of the bathroom." Derek narrow's his eyes, clearly not amused, and takes a step forward. Stiles curses himself when he automatically matches and takes a step back.  Derek, being the sadist he is, can't help but grin wickedly at that. It irritates the piss out of Stiles and he straightens, tilting his head back and narrowing his own eyes. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go join everyone."

 

Derek just tilts his head with a board expression. Clearly not planning to move.

 

Okay, then. He could play this the hard way.

 

Stiles nod's to himself and moves forward with determined intent, letting out a loud groan when he collides with Derek's body and goes stumbling back. Derek on the only had hadn't shifted a bit and is just looking very amused.

 

"What the.... _seriously_? Just stand there?" Stiles hisses. "Move your little werewolf ass!"

 

Derek tilts his head the other way, silent. Grinning that snide grin. 

 

"Why!! Just....argh!" Giving up Stiles plasters himself to the wall and begins to very slowly and embarrassingly slide past Derek, his motions slowed considerably when he has to force himself past Derek's right arm. Derek turns slightly to face him and Stiles let's out a little shriek before quickening his movements and successfully wiggling away from Derek. He twist's around to laugh in his face and almost falls on the ground, much to Derek's amusement. Scowling at the obnoxious man Stiles leaves the hall and heads back to the living room, where Ryan looks up at him with a familiar mischievously charming grin. It was a nice grin. So much better than a brooding scowl. But who was comparing? 

 

"Stiles!" Lydia jumps up from her spot in front of the TV searching through Netflix, and Stiles grins, getting a feeling that she may be just as intoxicated as he is, if not more.

 

"Hey Lydia."

 

"We were all just talking about how glad we are that you're acting like yourself again!" Lydia says rather loudly. Well. It's not like it was a secret anymore.

 

"Uh...yup. Me too, guys."

 

Lydia holds up her hand and shushes everyone in the room, even though no one is talking and just eyeing her in amusement. "I was just telling Scott that there was only one way we would know if you were truly back to your old self."

 

Why does he feel like something very, very bad is about to happen?

 

Lydia giggles and turns around, flipping through the Netflix movies until she pulls one up and looks back at Stiles with a wicked grin.

 

Stiles read's the words  _Footloose_ in a buzzed daze and swings around instantly. "Nope! Not happening!" He tries to flee to the kitchen but suddenly Derek is standing behind him and he crashes into the guy for the second time that night.

 

Derek just stars at the TV with an arched brow. "I don't get it."

 

Scott is snorting on the couch and moves Kira from his lap to the seat beside her. "When Stiles was a kid he used to do the dance at the end all the time. His dad really loved it."

 

"Kid?!" Lydia snorted. "I saw him do it a few months ago!"

 

When Lydia fast forwards the movie to the very end and presses play he's practically trying to claw his way around Derek. "I'm not doing this!" He wasn't  _that_ drunk.

 

"Just wait till you see this, it's the cutest thing ever." Lydia grins down to Ryan who is looking extremely interested before she sashays over to Stiles and grab's him from the back of his shirt, dragging him towards the center of the living room. 

 

"No. Lydia...no." Stiles twist's around to say to her sternly, but because she is grinning up at him like an idiot and dancing around a little already he can't help but laugh as he shakes his head. "Noo!! Please let me keep what little dignity I have left!"

 

The next thing he knows Scott is motioning everyone to get off the couch so he can scoot it backwards and pull the coffee table with it. He takes a seat almost immediately after, making it clear he's just there to enjoy the show. 

 

"Oh my God I hate you all." Stiles can't help but laugh anymore. He stares up at the ceiling a moment before he finally gives in. Ah, what the hell.....It was a good song. 

 

Scott cheer's immediately, clapping his hands and laughing like an idiot. Even Liam can't hold himself back and starts snorting, looking like he's almost too embarrassed to watch. 

 

"This is so very awkward." Malia mutters.

 

Ryan suddenly jumps up and moves to stand with Stiles and Lydia, and they turn to him with open mouthed awe as he does the dance with them, and even Kira jumps up at some point, dragging a suddenly horrified Scott with her. 

 

Derek leans against the wall with a small grin, watching everyone. They all looked awkward as hell and it was almost too painful to watch, but they were having fun, and that's all that really mattered to him.

 

 

 

 

************************

 

 

"So, this has been a really interesting night." Ryan said as he followed Stiles up the stairs to the top of the loft.

 

Stiles put a finger to his mouth and shushed him, grinning the whole time. "You have to be very quiet. Like....completely quiet or they will hear." He said, practically breathing in Ryan's face he was so close.

 

Ryan shook his head but his grin did not fall. "How much have you had to drink tonight, Stiles?"

 

"Uh..this much?" Stiles held his hands out as far from his body as they could stretch. 

 

Ryan snorted as he followed Stiles to the last step and looked around at the top of the loft. "So, what are we doing up here, and why do we have to be quiet?"

 

"I wanted to show you the fun punching thing I hit. And cause we could get in trouble. But I don't think we will cause Derek went outside to get some 'fresh air'." Stiles said, making air quotes with a snort. "What does that even mean, anyways?"

 

"So...this is Derek's room?" Ryan looked around as he approached the punching bag. "And the punching thing you hit is this?"

 

Stiles smacked his lips and nodded. "Yeah and I'm so totally bad ass at it too."

 

A look of total adoration crossed Ryan's features as he laughed at Stiles before looking at the hanging bag again. "So you must stay here a lot then?"

 

"Well Derek is training me right now so yeah I guess."

 

"Training you for what?" The other boy frowned.

 

Stiles thought on that a moment before shrugging. "You know. Stuff to help with my 'fragile-ness'." Air quotes for the win!

 

Ryan seemed to take that in stride a moment before releasing a sigh and looking down at Stiles, who was swaying just a bit on his feet. Ryan grinned and grabbed a hold of each of his arms, holding him in place. "We should really get some water in you."

 

"Nah. I'm fine." Stiles urged, slurring a bit.

 

Ryan licked his lips, silent a moment. "You know that I like you, right?"

 

Stiles grinned. "I like you too!"

 

"While that's great and wonderful, I have a feeling your 'like' wasn't exactly the same as my life." When Stiles just blinked up at him with a frown Ryan rolled his eyes and laughed. "Stiles. I  _like_ you."

 

Stiles cleared his throat after a moment. "So when you say like...you mean like 'like' like?"

 

"How can you be so frustrating?" Ryan finally said with a sigh. "Here. I'll just show you." And then he leaned forward and placed his lips against Stiles.

 

Stiles jumped slightly in surprise, before growing very still. Ryan's kiss was soft. Simple. Just a light pressing against his own with no force what so ever. And then before Stiles could even fret about if he should close his eyes or not Ryan was pulling away, looking down at him with a grin.

 

Stiles felt his face grow blood shot, and opened his mouth, then shut it again when he didn't know what to say. He blinked a few times and then tried again, only to fail again. 

 

Ryan arched a brow. "That bad?"

 

"What? No!" Stiles finally cleared his throat, finding his voice. "It's just I've never kissed another guy before. Well, except for Scott but that was when i was twelve or so and I was just curious and it wasn't even a big deal and we actually swore to never talk about it again which is what I'm doing so please don't tell him because he might freak!" Breathe. He needed to breathe.

 

Ryan just closed his eyes for a moment, laughing quietly before looking at Stiles again. "Okay. Aside from all that, it wasn't too much of a hassle, right?"

 

Stiles licked his lips. "Uh, no I don't think so."

 

"Well that's not very reassuring. Maybe I should give it another go?" 

 

"It might help a bit." Stiles found himself saying before he knew it, much to his surprise. And then Ryan was kissing him again. This time there was a little more force to it. A little more linger and Stiles actually closed his eyes. 

 

Ryan pulled away again, smiling down at Stiles who by now looked like all the blood had rushed to his face. "So?"

 

"Better." Stiles croaked out before clearing his throat, not quite able to look Ryan in the eyes.

 

Ryan smiled down at him a moment before wrapping an arm around his shoulder and turning him back towards the stairs. "Come on. Let's get you either some water, or a lot more alcohol." He said with a teasing wink.

 

Stiles snorted in laughter and stumbled carefully down the steps, not even sure if he could process everything with his drunken haze, which really, seemed like a blessing.

 

 

 

************************************

 

 

 

Stiles had finished off the reaming wine cooler, and the group had settled down considerably over the next hour as they relaxed on the couch or floor and watched Netflix until, one by one, they had all fallen asleep, and Stiles would have stayed asleep if it weren't for the annoyingly uncomfortable need to empty his bladder. So practically sliding off of the recliner he stumbled to the bathroom and sighed in relief when he got the job done. After washing he left the bathroom and looked around the living room with a loud yawn, seeing Scott, Kira and Lydia asleep on the couch together, and Liam and Malia laid out on the floor, as well as Ryan sleeping at the foot of the recliner, his head bent towards his chest. Stiles stared at him a moment, embarrassment eventually pushing his gaze away. He isn't quite sure what to think about Ryan kissing him. Don't get him wrong, Ryan was an attractive guy. Very. It was just that Stiles didn't know if that was what he wanted...or at least not so soon after all the mess of his life.

 

Still feeling the effect's of the alcohol Stiles leaned against the stairwell spiraling upwards to the top floor of the loft. He hadn't seen Derek come in before falling asleep and vaguely wondered if he had slipped in after. The part of Stiles brain that stopped a person from doing stupid things was apparently not working (when was it ever) because the next thing he knew he found himself climbing up the steps. Very slowly, of course, and practically gripping onto the railing to make sure he didn't go falling backwards. He really was still pretty drunk.

 

Once his head was even with the top floor he looked around, squinting through the darkness and trying to see if he could find Derek's creeper like form. He was nowhere to be seen, though, and so Stiles climbed up the rest of the way and moved slowly into the room. The large window at the far wall was casting gorgeous moon rays on the wooden floor, and Stiles couldn't help himself as he edged forward and stood in front of it, looking out at the crescent moon in awe. It really was a beautiful sight. He could understand why werewolves were so obsessed with it. It was magical all in itself. He was about to sit on the wide nook in front of it when suddenly he heard a low rumbling growl behind him.

 

Stiles swung around with wide eyes, searching the dark wide space until he saw a shadow sitting on the bed. Blue eyes suddenly glowed against the darkness and Stiles stumbled back a bit, his heart stopping a brief second before he realized it was Derek. "Oh my God...I thought I was going to die." He took in a deep breath, rubbing his blurred vision.

 

"You still may." There werewolf drew out darkly across from him.

 

Stiles removed his hands from his face and stared wide eyed at Derek as he unfolded himself from the bed and stood, moving slowly towards Stiles in that totally frightening predatory way.

 

"I totally don't know what you think I did but I swear I didn't!" Stiles hurriedly rushed out.

 

"In my room, Stiles?!  _My room?!"_  

 

Suddenly Stiles was jerked off his feet and slammed against a wall, and he felt the breath leave his lungs in a rush. He shoved his hand against Derek's chest to try and push him away but the wolf would not budge. "What are you --" His voice was cut off as Derek's face lowered until it was directly in front of his, his eyes glowing a furious blue, a dark scowl on his lips. 

 

"You think I wouldn't be able to smell it in here? On you?!" He bit the last part out.

 

Understand drawn on Stiles then and his face paled. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was going to happen I swear. I was just showing him the bag thingy!"

 

"His scent's all over you." Derek bit out angrily, raking his gaze over Stiles' face. "I can't stand it."

 

Stiles just shook his head weakly, not sure what to say about that. "I'm...sorry?"

 

"i have to remove it." The wolf said then.

 

Before Stiles even had time to be confused over that statement Derek's lips were suddenly slammed into his. He gave a shocked gasp and tried to pull his face away, but Derek's hand shot out and grabbed his chin firmly, holding it in place. The kiss was hard and demanding. Hot and bruising. It was punishment. Derek's body was suddenly pressed firmly, intimately against his own and Stiles opened his mouth on a gasp and Derek immediately took the opportunity to slide his hot tongue in against his own. Stiles was unable to hold back his moan at the foreign sensation, and the sound seemed to coax a growl from Derek as his free hand shot down to grab a hold of Stiles lower back and pull him more closely against him. If Stiles eyes had been open they would have rolled back in his head when he felt Derek's hard length press against an erection that he hadn't even thought he would be able to get with the amount of alcohol he had consumed. 

 

Stiles had no idea that Derek could have ever tasted so good. He was a heady mixture on his tongue. A combination of deep dark earth and exotic spices that set a hot burn from his throat down into his body. He had never tasted anything so addicting and suddenly he wanted more. The hands that had been bunched in Derek's shirt lifted and Stiles dug his fingertips into his shoulders, pulling him closer. Derek's entire body seemed to vibrate then, and the hand that had been clamped on Stiles chin shifted, until his fingers were circling his neck and his thumb resting on his jaw. Stiles allowed the wolf to tilt his head so he could penetrate his mouth more, and suddenly the kiss changed from being punishment to just something so incredibly hot and needy. For both of them.

 

Derek ground his hips hard against Stiles, and Stiles groaned in pleasure before his hand lifted to fist in the back of Derek's hair. A certain, unexpected wildness came over him then, and the need to leave his mark on Derek any way possible left his moaning before he bit down hard on Derek's bottom lip.

 

Derek sucked in a sharp inhale of surprise before a growl so feral and animal like burst from his throat and suddenly Stiles was moving weightless through the air until his back hit the mattress of Derek's bed. Before he could even more Derek was on him again, their mouth's relocking with so much force that their teeth clicked against each other. Derek didn't care. He was being driven by something so raw and basic at the moment, the only thing running through his mind was to  _mate_. To leave his scent all over Stiles and mark his entire body, until not an inch of the boy wasn't covered in bite marks and bruises. Grabbing onto one of Stiles' thighs he pulled it wide until he could settle in between them, closing his eyes with a groan at the sensation of being there so fully. Stiles released a hiss of pleasure as well, pulling back and arching his back. The sweat's that he had borrowed from Derek were thin and every sensation of the wolf rubbing against him left him panting and in desperate need of more. 

 

Derek looked down at Stiles bared throat and a rumbling growl rose from his throat as he leaned forward and rubbed his face against the soft skin, grinding against Stiles the entire time. His tongue snaked out to slide against Stiles' erratic pulse, causing a full body tremble to take over the boy, and when he bit down hard on the spot Stiles sucked in a gasp of pleasure and pain, his back arching off of the bed.

 

Stiles moved restlessly under Derek, his body on fire. He had never thought himself able to feel so utter and complete sensation before and it was all he could do to not scream everything felt so incredibly intense. Derek's hand was sliding under his shirt then, moving along the angles and edges of his body and Stiles felt himself shiver, though inside he felt scorched. 

 

He cracked open his eyes, his hand on the back of Derek's head as he rubbed his face all over the exposed skin of his neck and collar bone. The room was spinning out of control, and Stiles honestly had no idea if it was because of the alcohol or Derek alone. 

 

Suddenly Derek was sitting up, Straddling him, and Stiles blinked up at him, his whiskey colored eyes bright with lust as he stared into Derek's own glowing blue, finding something so animal like and beautiful in them. Derek's gaze lowered to his chest then, and he pushed Stiles' shirt up to stare down hotly at the tattoo on his hip. Stiles felt a shiver rush over his body as the air touched his bare skin, and Derek seemed to thrill from the sight, growing visibly larger against his pants and growling. Stiles sucked in a breath as he felt Derek's fingers curl under his waist band and then he was tugging the material down until all of his tattoo showed. The script stopped exactly parallel with the shaft of his penis, and Stiles felt his nipples harden and whimpered as Derek's gaze rolled over him slowly and so long that Stiles began to twist and turn, needing something.  _Anything._

 

Derek aimed to please. Moving down Stiles body the next thing Stiles knew the wolf's mouth was on his hipbone where his tattoo was and biting down. 

 

This time Stiles did scream.

 

Derek immediately clamped a hand over his mouth as Stiles bulked on the bed, whimpering under his hand and his fist in Derek's hair pulling hard as pleasure rolled over him. His body began to jerk then, and Stiles sucked in a deep gasp through his nose, his vision going blurry, as an orgasm so intense hit him that for a moment his entire mind went blank. All he could do was lay there and tremble until the last of his seed had spilled from his body, coating his thighs in hotness.

 

Derek closed his eyes and sucked in a deep inhale at the intoxicating scent of Stiles' cum invaded his senses. Releasing his teeth from Stiles hip he immediately licked a trail over the bite indention's and drew up slowly. His head felt hot and heavy. His entire body felt the same, and his shaft was so full and throbbing that it had become painful. 

 

He drew in a deep, ragged breath before removing his hand from Stiles' mouth, and as he did so the boy's head rolled slightly to the left, his mouth slightly open. Derek blinked at him a moment, trying to clear his head. "Stiles?"

 

When Stiles did not reply Derek drew up straighter. "Stiles?" After a moment, when it became very evident that Stiles had passed out, Derek released a sharp curse and pulled away from him, standing from the bed and scrubbing his hand over his face. 

 

The longer he stood there, pacing, the more the reality of the situation came crashing down on him, and after a very short moment Derek was near having a panic attack of his own. What did this mean? What was he supposed to do now? What happened when Stiles woke up? Feeling so utterly unsure of everything Derek cast one last glance to Stiles. One of his hands was laying over the edge of the bed, his other up towards his face and he looked....so very sexy with his hair a complete mess and his lips swollen from Derek's kisses. Derek was suddenly very aware that he still had a painful erection and jerked away with a growl, heading downstairs and to his bathroom. He turned on the cold water of the shower immediately and after stripping from his clothes stepped under the spray. It was agony against the over hotness of his skin but he welcomed it as he braced himself with a hand on the shower wall and his other around his penis, jerking himself in slow pumps. He closed his eyes with a groan, remembering how intoxicating the scent of Stiles arousal had been. How he had pulled hard at Derek's hair and moaned against his lips. How his eyes had been glazed over with lust. Clenching his teeth to hold back a shattered cry Derek closed his eyes as his erection pulsed and hot semen splashed against the shower wall. He kept milking himself a long moment still as it came, until finally there was none left and he slid back against the wall beside him, feeling suddenly exhausted. He stayed there a moment, letting the cold water wash over him, before finally shutting it off. As he slid the stall door open and stumbled out, he gripped the sink and leaned forward, trying to calm his erratic heart and breathing. Looking up he stared at his reflection in the mirror.

 

He had the look of a man who had no idea what to do.

 

And it scared the shit out of him. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys.....you have no idea how long it took me to write this chapter lol and I'm pretty sure my life span was considerably shortened from it. I know i almost died a few times during lol


	22. Out of Hiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the monster makes it's first appearance.

Stiles woke with a sever case of cotton mouth and a headache so severe it felt like his head was going to explode. Groaning he carefully pried open his eyes, blinking against the shadows of the room. For a moment he had no idea where he was, and it came back to him then. Derek's loft. Then he realized he was in Derek's bedroom. More importantly his bed, and he jerked up with a sharp gasp. Which he regretted almost immediately as painful fireworks went off in his skull from the motion. Gripping his throbbing head he sat there a moment, taking in deep, calming breaths, before finally risking looking around the room again. Derek was no where in sights. At least not that he could see. Looking to the large window on the wall he saw that it was still dark outside. A pale pink glow just beginning to blush the horizon which meant that the sun was soon to rise. How the hell had he gotten up here? The last thing he remembered was passing out downstairs on the recliner. He made himself rise from the bed and wobble to a stand, cause, let's face it, if he had been so drunk last night that he had marched his happy ass up to the top floor of the loft and crashed in Derek's bed, well he didn't want to be around when said wolf found him. Which was odd in itself. Where was Derek? Had he fallen asleep downstairs? Stiles certainly hoped so, because if there was ever a push that the wolf needed to make true on his threats of ripping Stiles' throat out, this was sure to be the one.

Moving forward very slowly so as not to upset the titanic sized hangover he was presently sporting, Stiles paused suddenly when he noticed a strangely family sensation of his sweat's sticking to his thighs. Furrowing his brow he reached down and pulled them away from his body, something in is head flashing back in time to when he had been young and had woken up in similar situations far too often. A look of absolute horror came to his face then as he realized what had happened, and he immediately began jerking his gaze left and right, as if to reassure himself that Derek was in fact no where around. At this point Stiles really was scared for his own safety. Scratch sleeping in the wolf's bed. If the man knew that he had had a wet dream???

Oh God his life was over.

For a full minute he flailed, having no idea what he was supposed to do in such a situation. Usually, if he were at home, he'd take shower and throw on some new pants. But he couldn't really do that here, could he?! Sure, he could shower and maybe even steal some more of Derek's sweat's, but what was he supposed to do with the ones he had on???? Set fire to them seemed the safest bet, but that wasn't very logical after all so he was right back at the beginning. And even more importantly....what was he supposed to do about the bed itself?! He had no doubt that Derek's super werewolf senses (which had NEVER been so annoying) would easily pick up on what had transpired and..and....and Stiles was too young to die!

Looking around the room desperately Stiles began to run for the dresser against the wall, almost tripping over his own feet before he got to it and began digging through the drawer's, praying that Derek would have some type of cologne or body spray stashed somewhere. After he had been through all of the drawer's but the top - cause everyone knew the top was the underwear drawer- he finally came to terms with the fact that this was a dire situation, and there was no way around it. Jerking open the top drawer he hurriedly began digging through the boxer briefs, and almost released a cry of triumph when he found a small bottle of dark looking cologne. He saw a little silver alligator on the front and recognized it as POLO, and kind of arched a brow. Didn't figure Derek as a POLO kind of guy. Maybe something a little more woodsy....spice. That thought tickled in the back of Stiles skull a second, as if he were trying to remember something, but he just shrugged it away and rushed over to the bed, beginning to spray the stuff madly. It was nearly entirely full, so there was plenty to use. Did that mean the guy didn't even wear cologne? Which meant that it would be weird for his bed to smell like it?! Squeaking Stiles immediately stopped spraying, although by now it was so strong that even with his feeble human senses he was gagging from the stuff. Setting the bottle down he grabbed the mess of blankets on the bed and started fanning them a bit to try and ease up on the smell. After he was done he looked back down and started worrying that the blankets weren't exactly how they had been and crying out in misery stated making them messy again. Which just then brought him to the fact that were they supposed to be messy in the first place because he wasn't even supposed to have slept in the bed! In the end after much internal struggle Stiles left them looking neat, but not so much that it was obvious. 

Grateful that was over he headed to the stairs and glanced down and listened. There was silence below. Stiles prayed that everyone else was still asleep, because as far as he was concerned, the only real option he had left was to sneak out, run to his jeep, and high tail his ass home. He wasn't a fool. If any of the wolves woke up and found him in his present state he would be as good as dead. Or humiliated for the rest of his life. They were pretty much one in the same.

Licking his lips Stiles tried to calm his pounding heart and very slowly moved down the stairs. It didn't help that the loft was old and every few seconds a stair creaked, and though it most likely wasn't that loud, it sounded thunderous in Stiles ears, so he knew to sensitive werewolf hearing it would be all the louder. After about five entire minutes of trying to be as soundless as possible, Stiles finally reached the loft floor and drew in a shaky, quiet sigh of relief. Now came the hardest part, though, sneaking past the sleeping werewolves in the living room without waking them. Just that thought alone was enough to cause him the beginning of a panic attack. Stiles cursed his own traitorous body and squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself with all his might to pull out of it before it came full blown. For once in his life it worked, which he was actually pretty shocked about. Once he was safely away from the loft he would definitely think back on that small win for future references. Nodding his head once in part determination and part needing to psych himself out, Stiles turned the corner and headed into the living room.

Looking up, though, his steps instantly froze and his eyes widened in shocked horror. Liam was lying behind the couch, Malia close beside him. And they were not alone. Hovering over Liam's body was something straight out of a nightmare, and for a moment Stiles prayed that he was still asleep, and such a creature did not exist in real life. A large portion of it's body was made entirely of swirling black darkness, billowing as if from some invisible breeze. Stiles could make out no type of leg's or feet, just black smoke. It wasn't until those dancing black shadows reached what looked like the upper part of a human torso that it's appearance was more humanoid, though still grotesque. It was skeletal like, knotted and bony with sharp shoulders and too long gnarled arms that ended in horrific claws that were gripped into the fabric of Liam's shirt. The creature's head, though, was perhaps the most horrific. It had no nose, just a gaping black hole. The rest of it's head was covered in a dark grey mess of scales and patches of rancid skin. It's eyes were blood red and glowing and it's mouth...it's mouth was gaping wide and even from his distance Stiles could see rows of razor sharp teeth. What perhaps was most horrific, was the fact that it's mouth was gaping wide and hovering just over Liams, and an eerie white glowing substance was coming from the creatures mouth and going directly into Liams.

Liam seemed awake, his eyes wide open and his back arched. But he did not move. Did not struggle. And with horrified clarity Stiles realized that the glowing white light was not coming out of the creatures mouth, but more so Liams, and going into the demonic beast. It was feeding off of him. Stiles was still overcome with gripping fear, but fury was starting to boil deep in his belly and fuel his blood, and after a moment longer he found his body moving, racing forward and releasing a deep, gutted scream, hoping to both surprise the creature and get it away from Liam, as well as wake the other's.

He saw Malia jerk awake and release a choked gasp of fear immediately, scurrying away with huge eyes. Stiles ran past her and threw himself at the creature. And went straight through it.

He felt a horrific deathly cold the second his body touched the swirling black, and then he was falling forward on the other side of it. Despite his failed efforts, he still succeeded in catching the creatures attention, and it flew around to face him, that horrifying mouth gaping open wide and releasing a painful, piercing scream.

Suddenly Scott was running towards it then, an animal like roar spilling past his open lips. His wolf was out, his claws sharp and shining and his teeth threatening. Stiles didn't have time to warn him before he leapt at the creature, and just as Stiles had, went straight through it. And then Lydia stood beside Stiles, and looking up he knew what was about to happen and cringed.

Lydia opened her mouth and a scream the like he had never heard split the air. It was so shrill and sharp that Stiles felt his ears drums threaten to burst immediately and he fell over with a cry, clamping his hands over his ears. Across from him Scott and Malia did the same, though Liam did not move. Lying still on the floor.

Apparently they weren't the only one's Lydia's scream effected, though, because the next moment the creature seemed to almost curl in on itself with a cry of pain and then dissipated in a burst of black smoke.

Lydia finally was silent, and Stiles was able to catch her just in time as her body swayed and she sank down. "Lydia? Are you okay?" He brushed the hair from her face, as her once glazed over eyes began to slowly show signs of life again and she finally blinked up at him with wide eyes, her body beginning to shake. "Oh, thank God." Stiles held her close a moment before looking up and seeing Malia crawling towards Liam. Stiles sat Lydia down carefully and hurried to do the same, crouching over the boy whose eyes were closed. 

"What's wrong with him?" Malia whined, and Stiles saw that blood was covering her ears and knew that his were most likely the same.

"I don't know." Stiles immediately checked his pulse. "He's alive. Liam! Liam!!" He grabbed onto his shoulders and began to shake him gently.

Suddenly Kira was burning a trail behind her as she flew past them and flung herself on Scott, who was standing over them staring at Liam with wide, scared eyes. "Why isn't he waking up?" Scott asked after assuring Kira he was alright.

"I don't know. I don't know! Liam!" Stiles shook him again.

"What the hell is going on?!"

Stiles looked up to see Ryan stumbling towards them from where he had been sleeping on the living room floor. He had blood trickling down both sides of his jaw and he was visibly shaken. "

What just happened?"

Stiles ignored him. They needed to get Liam awake and fast. "Liam!" He shook the young werewolf again.

Suddenly Malia was edging forward, tears awash in her eyes. She grabbed a hold of Liams shirt and jerked him hard, screaming his name to try and jostle him.

Stiles fell back, his body trembling. He watched Malia with wide, desperate eyes as she practically beat on the other boy. Scott moved forward after a moment, laying a firm hand on her shoulder. "Malia he's breathing at least. Maybe we need to call Deaton to find out why he isn't waking up."

Malia turned defiant eyes to him and shook her head jerkily. "No! He's going to wake up." She shook Liam again, crying as she screamed his name a moment longer before her shoulders eventually slumped and a distance look came across her eyes which were still flowing tears. 

A silence fell over the room as the weight of the situation settled, and then, suddenly Liam sucked in a deep gasped breath and his eyes shot open. Malia started laughing in relief, and clung to him immediately. Liam clung back, his eyes wide as he looked around him, searching every corner of the room. "I could hear everything, I just couldn't make myself open my eyes." He drew out breathlessly, scared.

Malia pulled back to kiss him on the lips. She stared at him, laughing, and then her smile fell, her eyes growing large once again. "His hair..." She whispered.

Then they all noticed it. A lock of his hair had turned white.

Scott stiffened then, jerking his gaze to the door of the loft. "Derek-"

Before he could say anything else Derek was bursting through the door, his eyes glowing blue and claws out at his side as he scanned the room. His gaze fell on everyone gathered on the floor, taking in the situation, and then moved to lock on Stiles, searching over him as if making sure he was okay.

"What....what's going on..." 

They had all somehow forgotten about Ryan. His voice seemed to snap Derek out of his trace though, and the next thing they knew he was across the room and had the boy high against the wall.

"Derek!" Stiles immediately shot to his feet, rushing forward and Scott was there with him. 

Scott reached him first, grabbing him by the shoulders and trying to pull him back. "Derek stop!"

"It was him, I know it was!" He roared, now fully wolfed out.

Ryan's eyes were bulging and horrified as he clawed at the hand on his neck, his legs flailing uselessly.

"It wasn't him!" Stiles yelled. "We saw the creature, Derek!

As Scott continued to try and force Derek away, the older wolf jerked around long enough to grab onto Scott and toss him across the room before swinging on Ryan again.

Stiles had a feeling all hell was about to break loose, and then suddenly Lydia was standing beside him.

"Stooooop!" Her piercing scream had them bending over again, clasping hands over their ears. She rounded on Derek, her eyes blazing. "It was not him!" She hissed. "I saw him sleeping beside me the entire time!"

Derek growled at her, stumbling away to lean against a wall. "Then who the hell was it?!"

"I don't know! But it couldn't have been him so can we all calm down so we don't rip each other's throat's out?!" She turned after a moment to look at Ryan, who had slid down the wall and was a horrified mess on the floor, staring up at everyone with huge eyes. She bent down slowly, carefully, shushing him like he was a child. "It's okay...no one's going to hurt you." She said the last part with a bit of force, darting a gaze to a glaring Derek.

"I don't understand....What....who are you people? What was that thing?" Ryan looked over Lydia's shoulder to Stiles, and Stiles cringed at the contact.

Because he knew that look on his face. Knew that confusion and fear. It was one he himself had worn when he had first found out about the supernatural. A part of him wanted to deny everything. To somehow erase the past few minutes from Ryan's mind. He did not want this for him. Feeling his gut clench painfully Stiles turned to look at Scott, who was watching him already. He gave a slight nod and Scott returned with one of his own, licking his lips before moving to kneel beside Lydia; and Stiles watched as they dragged yet another innocent person into their messed up lives.

 

******************************

 

Stiles stared at the peeling paper of the wall across from him, his temple resting on the cold of the wall to his right of him. He had left the loft about half an hour after Scott had started explaining everything to Ryan, unable to just stand there anymore and relieve all the pain that they had gone through over the years. It had taken a while to get Ryan to calm down enough to even start on the existence of werewolves, banshee's, werecoyotes, kitsune, and all the hell else that they had and hadn't come across yet. After climbing down a few stairs Stiles had taken a seat, the quiet of the stairwell a welcomed blessing at the moment.

Suddenly he heard the door to the loft opening and closed his eyes with a sigh, and a moment later Lydia came to sit beside him, laying a hand on his thigh and her head on his shoulder. For a moment they just sat like that, comforting one another with silence. Of course Lydia wasn't going to let his obvious distress go, though.

"So Ryan seems to be taking everything fairly well...considering."

Stiles smiled softly, and nodded his head. "Good."

"He's still kind of freaked out about Derek though. But I guess you can understand."

Stiles smiled softly. "And here you said just earlier that I was the only one he pushed against walls."

Lydia chuckled, wrapping her arm around his and squeezing against him in an odd arm hug. "I think he's going to be okay, though. I just don't understand why you're not happier."

Stiles arched a brow, shaking his head. "Liam was just attacked. Why would I be happy?"

"Because now everyone knows that Ryan isn't the monster."

"Yeah, well...I'd rather he not know about the monster at all...about any of this..."

"See, that's the part I don't quite get. Why?"

Stiles frowned down at her as Lydia straightened. "What do you mean, why?"

"Why do you not want him to know about anything really happening in Beacon Hills?"

Stiles snorted, unable to believe she was being serious. "Isn't it obvious? He's just going to get drawn into our mess. We aren't very lucky people, Lydia. What if something happens to him now?"

Lydia watched him a moment, her large green eyes a little too wise. "No. I don't think that's it. I think he was a place you could go to escape, and now that he know's, you can't do that anymore."

Stiles stared at her with a slightly parted mouth. He wanted to deny it, to get angry and tell her that he could never be that selfish. But deep down he knew that it was the truth. Ryan had been a much needed distraction in his life, and that was all presently crumbling away. He felt trapped. And even that was a horrible thing, because the pack was his friends. Shutting his eyes Stiles leaned his head back against the cold wall. "I don't know what to do." He whispered.

Lydia just looked at him a moment with a sympathetic gaze before scooting closer and wrapping her arms around his entire body this time. "I know." She whispered.

They were both quiet a long moment before Stiles spoke again. "You wanna know what bother's me the most, though? When I saw that thing, and what it was doing to Liam...it all came rushing back to me. I remember it, Lydia. I remember waking up and seeing those glowing red eyes and those...those teeth.....and then I just forgot. How could I have forgotten, Lydia?"

"I don't know." Lydia breathed. "But we'll find out. And soon. I promise."

"I hope so...cause if this thing can somehow make us forget about it when it attacks....how are we even supposed to fight it?" 

"We'll figure it out somehow." Lydia pulled away from him then, smiling softly. "But right now you really need to be back at the loft. There's a very cute guy whose pretty freaked out right now and wanting to be around a familiar face."

Stiles finally stood and taking Lydia's hand started back up the stairs. "We kissed, you know."

Lydia arched a brow, studying him. "You and Ryan?" She drew out slowly.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Lydia. Who else?"

She shrugged a trim shoulder, pursing her lips. "You never know what could happen."

Stiles just frowned down at her before she opened the door to the loft. He took a deep, calming breath, and then stepped through.


	23. Omega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek's inner struggle is made known and he has conflicted feelings after Deaton shares something with him

"Are you sure you're alright?" Stiles asked for about the tenth time as he stood with Ryan outside of the loft. About an hour after everyone had told Ryan everything, the boy had announced that he really just needed to be home and think about everything. To be somewhere he felt safe. Everyone had understood, and after Scott reminding Ryan how important it was that he didn't tell anyone about what they were, Stiles had walked him out.

 

"I just need some time to process everything." Ryan said softly, one hand over his chest and grasping his arm. He was shell shocked. Stiles knew the sight well. And it made guilt settle heavy in the pit of his stomach.

 

"I'm sorry. I know this is a lot to take in."

 

"It's not just that." Ryan looked at him then, and Stiles could see the hurt in his eyes. "You guys thought I was that... _thing_. That's the whole reason you invited me in the first place. I just feel like you were never really interested in being my friend."

 

"What? No!" Stiles ran a hand through his hair in great aggravation. "I tried to tell them! I knew it was never you. It's just...."

 

"Just what?"

 

He released a sigh. "It's just that that's how things normally go for us. Every time someone new comes into our lives they usually end up....betraying us. Look, and know that all this is so very messed up, believe me, but don't hold it against them, okay?" He pleaded. "They were just being cautious."

 

  
Ryan looked at him a moment, taking in the desperation in Stiles' voice. "You really love them don't you?"

 

"Yeah, I do." He answered immediately. "We've been though so freaking much together and they're all I have." Stiles drew off, gnawing on his upper lip a moment in hesitation. "Look, if you never want to speak to us again, I'll totally understand. It's just...it would really suck if you did."

 

Ryan rolled his eyes after a moment, grinning. "You make it almost impossible to be mad."

 

Stiles shrugged a shoulder, smiling slightly. "Well good. At least I know I can use it to my advantage."

 

The other boy released a sigh, clearly exhausted from everything he had learned. "I just need time." He said again. "I want to think about everything. Preferably away from  _you_  so I'll have a fair chance at least."

 

Stiles nodded, fully grinning. "Okay. I get it. Just, don't think too long, okay?"

 

Ryan looked at him like he was in serious jeopardy of caving before shaking his head and turning away. "You play way too dirty."

 

Stiles watched him walk around the corner and heard the tell tale sound of the lift moving before turning and pushing open the loft door with a sigh. He found everyone in the living room. Malia sat on the couch with Liam, her arms wrapped around the still visibly shaken boy. Kira sat perched near them, worry evident in her eyes while Scott paced in clear frustration. Lydia was strangely quiet, standing near the window and staring outside, and Derek sat bent forward in his recliner, his elbows on his knees. When Stiles entered he turned his gaze upwards, and Stiles was a bit taken aback from the raw emotion showing so clearly in them. The man never let his true feelings slip through, and it made Stiles realize just how upset everyone was about what had happened. Stiles was still mad at him for how he had attacked Ryan though, and before he allowed himself to do anything like pity the wolf, he forced his gaze away from Derek and moved to stand beside Lydia. "What are we going to do?"

 

"We need to see Deaton again. Maybe now that we've seen the creature and what it does he will be able to identify it." Scott nodded, as if he were telling himself that the Druid would be able to do so.

 

"I've never seen anything like that before." Malia breathed out softly. "It was like it's entire body was made of smoke." She turned frantic eyes to Scott. "How are we supposed to stop it if we can't even touch it?"

 

"We'll find a way." Scott promised, his eyes shinning.

 

"We know at least one thing." Stiles spoke up, and everyone turned to look at him. "Whatever the thing is, even if we can't touch it, Lydia was able to hurt it."

 

They all turned to look at Lydia, who pulled her gaze away from the window.

 

"I've never heard you scream like that before." Stiles said. "It was like you used your voice as a weapon. Which we also all felt, by the way." Stiles reached up to touch his ears where dried blood was now caked. "I thought my ear drums were going to explode."

 

"How did you do it?" Kira asked softly.

 

Lydia shook her head after a moment. "I don't know. I just woke up and saw it and....it just came out. It was more instinct than anything."

 

"You think you'd be able to do it again?" Scott asked.

 

"I don't know." Lydia leaned back against the wall, looking lost. "I don't even know how I did it. It's like I wasn't there really." She sniffled slightly. "I wish I could give you guys more, but I don't even know how this whole banshee thing works."

 

"What about Deaton?" Stiles spoke up. "I remember you were going to him to see if he could find out if there were any other Banshee's you could contact."

 

"It was a dead end. Apparently we're not that common." She whispered faintly.

 

"Hey...we'll figure this out. All of it." Stiles wrapped his arm around her shoulder and drew her into the curve of his side, and Lydia leaned against him with a small sigh. 

 

"Well, at least we know for sure now what's causing people to go crazy." Derek spoke up finally, looking at the white streak in Liam's hair, and then to Stiles'. "You think your dad's found out anything on the time frame of when they were first affected and when they turn into mindless zombies wanting to kill people?"

 

Stiles couldn't help it, he cringed. "I'll ask him when I get home." 

 

"I don't want to become like that." Liam spoke up for the first time, his eyes wide. "Guy's you can't let me. I mean if I do it will be so much worse. I'll kill someone." 

 

"Hey, we're not going to let it come to that." Scott reassured him, placing a hand on his should and meeting his frantic eyes with a steady stare.

 

"Plus, I've had the white almost two days now and I'm still sane." Stiles added jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. "Anyways didn't Deaton say there were some things he could do to slow the process? We'll ask him about it today, okay, buddy?"

 

Liam nodded slowly, his grip on Malia's hand tightening. 

 

"We need to get over there as soon as possible." Scott pulled away to check the time on his cell. "Deaton should be there within the next hour."

 

Stiles nodded. "I'm going to head home and shower and then talk to my dad, see if he's heard anything. I'll meet you guys at the clinic, okay?"

 

They all nodded absently to him and as Stiles made his way through the loft he couldn't help but glance back at Derek, and found the man watching him yet again, his eyes a kaleidoscope of emotion that Stiles couldn't help but feel carried more weight than just the horrific event they had all been through. His stomach twisting uncomfortably Stiles left the loft in a hurry.

 

 

 

************************

 

 

Derek waited until everyone had left the loft before leaving himself, speeding away in his Camero towards the Preserve. There were so many emotions running through him that he felt like his insiders were a complete chaos, and desperately needed to release his stress. And the only way he knew how to do that was to run. He had left he loft earlier that morning, and had hit the street's on two legs for a long time, trying to find an answer of what had happened between him and Stiles. As he had ran, his lungs burning with exertion, guilt had bloomed low in his belly and grown until it had almost swallowed him completely. Stiles had been very drunk. And now that Derek was in his right mind and wasn't being driven by pure instincts, he knew that he had taken advantage of the boy, no matter how willing Stiles had been in his arms. What made things worse, Stiles wasn't seeming to give anything away. Derek had no idea what he was thinking, or even if he was thinking about what had happened. And if he wasn't, that thought somehow bothered him the most. And pissed him off with an intensity that was almost deathly. 

 

Releasing a growl Derek ran a hand over his face. They had more important issues to deal with. Like the fact that some creature in Beacon Hills was first killing, and then turning it's victims into mindless killing machines. What worried him the most was that Liam and Stiles were obviously on that road to becoming just that, and he had no idea how long they had left. This creature had only made itself known six days ago, but that only made him question why it would kill some of it's victims and not the other's. The fact that Deaton had never heard of the thing and they had had no luck looking through the bestiary left him feeling even more hopeless. It was not a feeling he had experienced in a very long time, and one that he hated reliving. 

 

Pulling into the preserve Derek cut his engine and climbed out of his car, walking deep into the woods before taking off his clothes and stashing them in a knucker hole at the bottom of a tree, and then let the shift take hold of him. Again, he was surprised by how smoothly the change came, how fluent and fast. You'd think that changing your entire body, bones, muscles and all would be such a more complex ordeal. But it wasn't. It was as easy as one second he stood on two legs, and the next he was on four. And again, he was surprised by how  _right_  it felt to be in his full wolf form. In a way it was like coming home, and while that thought thrilled him, it also scared him slightly. The change was seductive, and sometimes he did not want to change back to a man and simply enjoy the sensation of running on four legs and being one with the forest. 

 

As he ran he briefly wondered if his mother had felt the same. A deep, carefully hidden part of him ached at the thought, and Derek resisted leaning his head back and releasing a mournful howl as his paws padded over the damp forest floor. He had so many regret's in his life, and the largest one was that he had not been there for his family when their home had went up in flames. He liked to tell himself that he would have been able to save everyone somehow, that he would not be so alone anymore if he had, yet the ration part of his mind knew that in the end there would have been nothing he could have done, and he would have died with them. Sometimes, he wondered if that would have been better. The guilt that ate at him every day over the fire was a hard and heavy burden to carry, and one not easily hidden. 

 

So often a voice at the back of Derek's mind whispered to just leave Beacon Hills. To try and escape everything that had happened, again. And honestly, would it be so horrible if he did? With Peter gone who knows where, Derek was alone. As close as he had grown with Scott and his pack, it was blatantly clear the Derek that he himself was not actually part of the pack. He was not Scott's beta. Had never been. Deep within him, at his core, was the heart and soul of an Alpha, and though he no longer was the idea of not having a pack of his own ate at him. Maybe it was just his wounded pride that refused to give in and submit to Scott, but Derek knew that his place was not with Scott. 

 

Honestly. He wasn't even sure where it was.

 

And a horrifying acknowledgement that he tried to ignore as much as possible was slowly eating at him. He was no longer an Alpha. Hell, he wasn't even a Beta. He was a  _lone_ _wolf_  without a pack of his own and belonging to none. Derek was an omega. How had he fallen so far? 

 

Shifting his ears flat to his head Derek picked up his speed, racing through the forest with maddening intensity.  The most basic part of him longed to have a pack to run with, even if it were only one person. But Derek knew that if somehow in the future he ever did become an Alpha again, he would not give anyone the bite. The lost of his pack had been like losing a piece of his very soul. He didn't know if he could go through that again. Unable to help himself, though he knew it could cause him only pain, Derek thought back on those he had shared the bite with. Erica, beautiful, wild Erica. She had been almost as much of a mess as Isaac, and though Isaac was still alive, he was so far away, in another country, and Derek felt that loss as well. And Boyd? Derek does throw his head back then, a piercing, sorrowful howl filling the silence of the woods. Boyd's death perhaps effected him the most, because it had been at his hands, and though it had not been deliberate, he still relived that moment over and over in many a nightmare.

 

So no. The last thing from his mind was ever creating a new pack. And though he sometimes played with the idea of going to France and tracking down Isaac, he always found himself unable to actually follow through with the urge. Isaac had left them all. And while Derek understood his reasoning, if he had ever wanted to come back he would have by now. Derek understood it, really. He had done the same thing after his family had died. Leaving behind everything. Hopeful that once you were away you would forget. But he had never forgot. And he had a feeling neither had Isaac. 

 

 

 

*************************

 

 

 

When Derek arrived at the clinic Lydia's care, Scott's bike and Stiles' Jeep were already out front, which meant that the whole gang was most likely in there. Approaching the door he saw that the closed sign was still up, even though it was past eight. Before he could raise his fist to knock, though Scott was there, pushing the door open.

 

The teen allowed Derek to pass before locking up once again. "Thought you weren't going to come."

 

Derek nodded. "Yeah, something came up. Has Deaton figured out anything?"

 

 

Scott sighed, shaking his head. "Nothing yet. But we're still going over everything we saw. But even so...if he doesn't have this thing figured out by tonight, I say we still pay a visit to Eichen House."

 

 

"Yeah. I agree. Does Lydia know?"

 

 

"Me and Kira told her when we left the loft. Weird thing is she said she just recently had to go there for Deaton."

 

 

Derek turned a confused frown to Scott. "What? Why?"

 

 

"Apparently that's how Deaton figured out what Kate had done to you; he spoke with the Seer person."

 

 

"Let me guess; Lydia had to go pull him from his own mind." Derek bared his teeth in annoyance. "I don't know about you but it feels like Deaton keeps lots of things hidden from us." Sometimes Derek really hated that they had to rely on the man for so much. He had a way with being secretive and speaking in riddles that drove Derek crazy, and if it weren't for the fact that he was pretty sure the Druid had known and most likely been in love with his mother, well he would have nothing to do with the man at all. 

 

 

"I'm starting to think so too." Scott muttered before they pushed open the doors to the back rooms.

 

 

 

Everyone looked up as they entered, and Derek's eyes scattered over the faces until he found Stiles', and felt his gut clench immediately and doubt bloom. Scott tilted his head before casting a frown his way and Derek immediately tried to reign in his own emotions.  _Get a grip. Gain some self control._ Derek pulled his gaze away from Stiles' and moved to take a stance behind a chair where Lydia sat. 

 

 

"Derek, glad you could join us." Deaton said, not bothering to look at him. He was presently checking Liam's vitals, and the boy was sitting up on a examining table beside Stiles, and Derek figured that Deaton had just finished doing the same to the golden eyed boy or was about to. 

 

 

"Please tell me we know what we're dealing with now."

 

 

Deaton didn't say a word as he continued to monitor Liam's pulse, and after a moment Derek had to suppress the urge to growl his frustration. Finally Deaton returned Liam's hand to his side before turning to look at Derek. 

 

 

"It's true that the new information does help. And now we have a bit of a better idea what the creature is after."

 

 

"And that is?"

 

 

"Well...if I'm correct, it seems to be feeding off of it's victims."

 

 

Derek tsked. "Yeah, we got that. What's it feeding on?"

 

 

Deaton looked between Stiles and Liam a moment. "Let me ask you two something. After you were attacked, how did you feel?"

 

 

Liam licked dry lips, casting a glance to Scott as if waiting for permission to speak before doing so, and Derek realized that the kid was still so unsure about being a werewolf. Still not totally confident in himself. It was normal, really, and given time Derek had no doubt that he would prove himself as a gret Beta to Scott. "Well....it was weird. It was like I felt...empty? Weak definitely. I was exhausted, like I had been running for days straight." He cast a small smile to Malia across the room. "I stopped for like three burgers on the way here and am still starving."

 

 

Deaton nodded after a moment, looking to Stiles, who shrugged and gave a tired sight. 

 

 

"I mean that's the thing. I don't even remember being attacked. It didn't come back to me until I saw it this morning. But yeah I guess I went through something similar. I have felt pretty exhausted the past few days. But I thought that was just because I hadn't been sleeping." He muttered the last bit.

 

 

"It sounds like to me that whatever this thing is, it's feeding off of your very life force." Deaton stood, turning to go through some cabinets filled with jars of herbs.

 

 

" _Life force_?" Scott frowned. "What does that even mean?"

 

 

"Every culture has a different word or definition for it, but I think you would recognize it as the soul." The Druid pulled out three small bottles and set them on the counter, and then took two cups to sit beside them. 

 

 

"I don't care about any of that!" Stiles drew out. "I'm just worried about what seems to happen to the people this thing feeds from. Deaton what's going to happen to us? Are we going to freak out and start hurting people?"

 

 

"Well, you're father said that both of the victims that were infected started showing signs about three days previous to doing so--"

 

 

"Three days?!" Stiles gripped the edge of the examining table hard, his eyes frantic. "That doesn't give us very long to stop whatever this is!" He hissed. "And how do we know if we beat this thing that we're going to go back to normal?!"

 

 

"We'll figure it out, Stiles." Scott nodded reassuringly. "We always do."

 

 

"No! I'm so  _sick_ of hearing that shit! We don't know that, Scott! We don't!" Stiles jumped down from the table, running his hands through his hair with a cry of frustration as he began to pace. "We have to do something about this now. I can't wait anymore. I'm not going to just sit back and wait to become some mindless goddamn monster!!" As he spoke he grabbed one of the larger jars and twisted, slinging it to shatter against the wall near Scott and Kira's head. 

 

 

A silence fell over the room then and the lights overhead randomly flickered on and off, and Derek felt his muscles tense as if waiting to spring, and do what he had no idea. 

 

 

Stiles sucked in deep breaths, his chest heaving and falling. He stared at the wall where he had broken the jar a moment, before staring down at his hands a moment longer and then collapsing against the examining table behind him, where a wide eyed Liam now sat. "We have to fix this guys." He said softly, staring blankly at the wall, and Derek hated that look, desperately wanted that fire back in the boys eyes. 

 

 

"We will." Deaton said firmly as he pushed a cup into Stiles' hand first and then Liams. "Now both of you drink this. It's just a little remedy to give you back what energy was taken."

 

 

Stiles stared down at the cup a moment before sighing and tipping it back, draining it in one go, and Liam did the same. "Uh...jeez Doc what is this crap?"

 

 

Deaton grinned. "I believe this is another of those situation where you'd be better off not knowing."

 

 

Stiles stared at him dryly while Liam looked down in his cup with a look of slight panic, as if he were going over every disgusting possibility he could.

 

 

"We'll figure this out." Deaton said, looking at everyone. "And now we at least know what this thing looks like, so it will be easier to figure out." He turned back to Stiles and Liam. "The last thing you two need is to give up. You need to stay strong. Fight."

 

 

"I'll try." Liam said, glancing over to Malia who still did not look fully convinced. None of them did, Derek noticed. And when Scott and he shared a glance, he knew that they couldn't wait any longer. They would be going to Eichen House that night.

 

 

"Also I would suggest to just continue with your every day life. I think to beat off this thing as long as possible that last thing either of you need to do is mope around waiting for it to happen."

 

 

Stiles snorted, pushing off of the table. "Denial is the safest cure, right? Yeah, yeah. I get it. I guess I'll go take a look in the bestiary again. Maybe now I'll actually be able to find something."

 

 

"I'll come with you." Scott moved to walk with Stiles as he headed towards the door. "Thank you, Deaton." Scott called over his shoulder.

 

 

And just like that Derek watched everyone stand and begin to leave. He waited until they had all shuffled out in front of him and made to follow.

 

 

"Derek, if you'll join me for a moment."

 

 

Frowning he looked over his shoulder and found Deaton looking at him expectantly. Derek turned to look back at everyone, and almost as if on cue Stiles turned his gaze over his shoulder to meet his eyes. Derek licked his lips and turned around to approach Deaton. "Yeah?"

 

 

Deaton motioned for him to follow him and Derek did so, following the Druid into a thick, soundproof room so none of the other's would be able to hear their conversation. "I have something important to tell you."

 

 

Derek just stood there, not bothering to take any of the few chairs scattered across the room. "What is it?"

 

 

"While I was examining Stiles and Liam, I noticed something a little odd." The man paused, going over his words before speaking, something that Derek had always loathed and he gripped his hands waiting for Deaton to continue.He had never been the patient type and Derek had learned early on that patience was something you really needed with the Druid. Which is why their relationship was never more than necessity. "I'm not sure how, but Liam doesn't have the same darkness as Stiles. I don't sense any type of negative effect's left over from his attack, other than his loss of energy, that is."

 

 

Derek shook his head with a frown. "Wait. I don't understand. How can they have been attacked from the same creature but have different symptoms?"

 

 

"I honestly don't know. By all logical reasoning Liam should be the exact same as Stiles. And I checked the bodies of the other two victims yesterday as well. They had a residual darkness as well."

 

 

"So are you saying Liam is immune or something?"

 

 

 

"I wouldn't go that far. I just...it doesn't make sense. And we're obviously missing something."

 

 

"Tell me again how the hell this helps us?!" Derek drew out angrily, feeling like his nerves were about to explode in a shaky frustrated mess.

 

 

"It doesn't. I'm also telling you that Stiles is getting worse. I can feel the darkness inside of him now, like a psychical substance. His Will is still fighting, Derek, but it's not going to last. He's already showing early signs of the transformation. His increased irritability. His anger."

 

 

"God dammit!" Derek swung around, rubbing a hand over his mouth and very much wanting to slam his fist into the wall and relieve even the smallest bit of stress.

 

 

"Derek I would highly suggest letting everyone know now about the ritual. There's really no reason to hide it anymore, anyways. He knows that this thing is going to slowly turn him into something he doesn't wants to be. You have to let him know. It's the only way."

 

 

Derek stared at the ground a long moment before nodding silently. "Alright....I'll let everyone know."

 

 

************************

 

 

 

As he left the clinic he fished his cell from his pocket and sent Scott a message immediately.  **"Tell Lydia to meet us at the loft in an hour. We have to plan for tonight."**  


 

 

 

Derek just hoped that they learned something tonight that would let them forego the ritual. He wasn't quite sure why the idea of it sat uneasily in his stomach, it was just something about it didn't seem right. Plus, he did not trust magic. There was always some price to be paid. One way or another.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love chapters where Derek bares a bit of his soul. His character is so tortured and I don't think that go over that enough in the show sometimes. Tortured characters are just the....yummiest ever....mmh lol


	24. Entry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack start their prowl on Eichen House

"I know you didn't.  _Scott!_ Are you serious?!" 

 

Standing outside of the loft Scott gave a apologetic grin, shrugging his shoulders . "I couldn't really help it. He knew something was up. Plus we kind of need him too. He's our best bet in cases like this!"

 

Derek continued his murderous glare on Scott a moment before twisting around with a glare, pulling his door open wide so Scott and a very smug looking Stiles could follow behind. "I'm just going to emphasis Scott's words of me being the  _best._ You got that, Sourwolf? The freaking best." He rolled his eyes then, stopping in front of Derek in the living room with a cocked head. "Seriously, dude, what were you guys going to do? Just march in fangs out and shovel past anyone who got in the way? Yeah.  _Right_." Stiles scoffed, looking behind him at Scott who cringed and shrugged his shoulders, and then Derek, who was just staring at him in that slightly annoyed way. "Oh my god! You guys so totally were. Have you learned  _nothing_ from me?"

 

"Alright so what do you suppose we do, _Stiles_?"

 

"For the love of--dude you're mouth literally drips with so much sarcasm I could just hold a cup under it and have myself a nice big mug of Mockery Mocha!"

 

Scott snorted into laughter behind them, and almost immediately cut it off, clearing his throat at Derek's glare. The wolf released a growl and drew back slightly, shaking his head. 'I can't. I swear to god Scott I'll end up eating him."

 

Stiles eyes widened and he bobbed his head. "Eat me? That's a new one."

 

Derek looked away immediately, a strange gleam in his eyes, and from behind them Scott suddenly drew his lip back in clear disgust. "Oh my God. Maybe I should be the one to stay behind."

 

"What? No Scotty you have to go, man!" Stiles rushed over to him, pulling an arm around his shoulder and patting his chest with his free hand. "If we don't have someone goal orientated we'll just be there all night bickering like newly weds and that will be super weird. I mean think of our age difference!"

 

Scott just rolled his eyes. "Fine. Just, let's hurry up and come up with a plan already."

 

Stiles leaned forward and kissed him dramatically on his head and Scott pushed him away with a grin. 

 

"We need to wait until Lydia get's here." Derek drew out gruffly, looking very perturbed sitting in his recliner. 

 

"Roger." Stiles began to pull various things out of his backpack, then, a large old leather tomb, a crap load of little jars filled with strange substances, and lastly a blue print of Eichen House.

 

"Do I even want to ask what the book and jars are for?" Derek drew out.

 

"It depends if you wanna get in an out of Eichen having little or no mishaps." Stiles shrugged.

 

"And what would a mishap be?"

 

"You know. You or Scotty slamming your fist's into someone's face."

 

"Then I don't want to know."

 

Stiles rolled his eyes with a sigh. "Is there every a time that you freaking werewolves  _don't_ jump at the chance of injuring someone?" Stiles looked between Derek and Scott, and even Scott could only give a 'it is what it is' kind of shrug. "Jeez. I'm sure there's far more healthy, interesting ways to relieve stress. I hear yoga helps."

 

"Stiles." Derek finally growled out.

 

"Fine! Okay so I may or may not have nabbed a few of Deaton's old books lying around over the years. You know, the one's I'm sure he never uses or needs." At Scott's look of absolute horror Stiles threw up his hands in surrender. "Come on Scotty don't give me that look! The man is a freaking Russian nesting doll wraped in a jigsaw puzzle wrapped in a rubix cube! Excuse me for wanting to feel like we have other means just in case he start's acting...Deaton."

 

Derek arched a brow, surprised that Stiles shared his same wave length. He actually found himself pretty proud of the teenager.

 

Scott sighed heavy. "Alright well tell me you got something good at least."

 

Stiles snorted. "Uh, YEAH! And there's something in here that will work out great for tonight. Stiles opened the large book and carefully went through many of it's pages until stopping on a page. "So there's this..well this receipt, really, for this dust stuff that you can use to put people to sleep. I figure it would be safer than just you guys knocking them out."

 

"Safer but not faster." Derek gave a toothy grin. "Remind me why it even matters?"

 

"Because, Derek, do you really think that you two going in there all gung-ho isn't going to draw more alarm than we want?" Stiles stared at Derek like he couldn't believe he even had to explain.

 

"He's right. We need to do this smart. Get in and out. All we want is information."

 

"Which brings me to this grand prize winning question." Stiles sat back, looking between the two of them. "What are we supposed to do if this 'Seer' person doesn't want to talk?"

 

Derek shook his head. "That won't be an issue, trust me. He won't be able to help it."

 

"What does that mean?" Scott asked with a frown.

 

"It's what he is. Seer's have a constant, driving need to use their third eye. A lot of them hardly have control of it, and I'm guessing if this guy's been locked up in Eichen House for who knows how long, he's going to jump at the opportunity."

 

Scott nodded at his explanation, but then frowned again. "Wait. So...why doesn't he just use it on the guards? What's stopping him?"

 

"It can be many things." Derek shrugged. "Could be something to do with a barrier. The guards could take something daily to ward off magical attacks or influence as well."

 

"Oh. I guess that makes sense then."

 

Just then Derek and Scott glanced up to the loft door and a moment later Lydia entered, and Stiles couldn't help but feel a little jealous. He wished he'd be able to sense when people were coming. It would totally help him out those late nights when he was looking up stuff on his computer and didn't want the mortification of his dad barging in his room. 

 

"So I see everyone is here." Lydia grinned at Stiles, like he had no doubt he would have showed up in the first place. Walking over to them she put her hand on her hip and winked. "I don't know about you guys, but I love it when we do naughty things."

 

 

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Cause breaking and entering is so fun."

 

 

"Not to mention the part where we talk to some guy that even Deaton's too afraid to see." Scott added.

 

"I'm more of a grand scheme of things kind of girl." Lydia smirked before bending over to look at the blue prints of Eichen House that Stiles was beginning to unroll. 

 

"Yeah, well I hope our 'grand scheme' doesn't end up with us dead." Stiles muttered. 

 

 

**************************

 

 

It's easy enough for Lydia to get into Eichen House. Visiting Meredith is something that she's done on several occasions, and still does. In the beginning it had been about trying to find out more about what she was, and ultimately if her grandmother was still alive. In the end, it had turned into something more of just a way to comfort herself. Which was really hilarious, given that the only way she found comfort was visiting a crazy woman in an insane asylum. It wasn't all bad, though. The times that Lydia was able to visit and Meredith was actually in her right mind, the two shared a silent understanding. A companionship. And that was something Lydia was desperately trying to cling to these days. She just felt so lost some days. So alone. And even though she knew everyone would always be there for her, she couldn't help but wish there were someone  _like_ her. 

 

True, Meredith was a banshee. But more often than not the woman was lost somewhere in her own mind. On those days Lydia would just sit with her, holding her hand gently or even talk to her. Tell her about her day. All her secret wishes. Some part of Lydia knew that it was a bazaar and maybe even a bit sad relationship she had with Meredith. But she was all she had. 

 

The guy behind the desk knew her well, and Lydia was pretty sure had a ginormous thing for her, which she would be using to her advantage.

 

"David. Nice to see you again." Lydia sashayed over to the desk and laid a bent elbow on it, leaning forward with a flirty grin. 

 

"Ms. Martin. It's been a while." David grinned shyly, his cheeks glowing almost more bright than her own hair. 

 

"I know. I've just been so busy!" She puffed out a very red bottom lip in a perfect pout and cock her hip a little more. No matter that David couldn't quite see it. Hey. Her womanly wiles could pass through wood they were so spot on. "I was hoping to see Meredith a little?"

 

David frowned, looking down at the clock on his computer. "I'm sorry. Visitation time just ended twenty minutes ago."

 

Lydia whimpered dramatically and brought her own watch covered wrist to her face. "Ah! I knew my watch was running slow! I feel so stupid." She said with a sheepish grin, rolling her eyes.

 

David's smile couldn't have been any more filled with admiration. "It's okay. We all do it sometimes. I'm sorry about it, though."

 

Lyida nodded, her frown falling very slowly. "It's just...I really wanted to see her." She turned away slightly with a sniffle, rapidly blinking her eyes as if she were holding back tears. Which she was SO capable of creating on demand. "I've had a pretty bad day and I usually come talk to her and it makes me feel better. I just--" Another sniffle. Her eyes were starting to glisten. Lydia could pretty much see the inner battle raging within David. She waited until a single tear had successfully fallen before releasing a small hiccup and turning away as if embarrassed, wiping at her face. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to...You've always been so nice to me, David. I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to take advantage of you. I guess I'll just go and--"

 

"Wait!"

 

Lydia froze during her retreat, a slow sly smile dragging a corner of her lips up. She immediately wiped it off and swung around with wide, watery eyes, the perfect picture of Damsel in Distress. "Yes?"

 

David chewed worriedly on his bottom lip before glancing quickly around him and releasing a deep sigh. He leaned forward to speak softly. "I guess I could go ahead and let you back. Just for a few minutes though, okay?!"

 

Lydia placed a hand over her heart. "David! You don't have to do that!"

 

"No. I want to." He pulled open his desk and took out one of temporary key cards that only worked when they were entered in the system. "Here. Just...try to be quick, okay?"

 

Lydia batted her lashes prettily, looking at David like he was her new hero. "You are my hero. Did you know that??"

 

David's face reddened in embarrassment and he shrugged. "Just glad I could help."

 

"Buzz me in, Superman." She moved aside with a grin so David could pass and move to open the main double doors with his employee keycard that was identical to the visitor ones, only that the visitor ones had a thin strip of silvery tape on the back with VISITOR painted in large black letters. As for it's function itself, it was entirely the same as the employee keycards, only didn't have access to the inner sections of Eichen House.

 

Lydia was already peelings the silver tape off of the back from where she held the keycard behind her. Once David had scanned the doors with his own keycard, which was connected to a latch on a pull cord at his waist, Lydia waited until he was walking by her again before suddenly taking hold of his arm and jerking him towards her. She inwardly cursed Stiles as she locked lips with David. She proceeded to fulfill his every dream for a moment, making sure she got good and in there to fully distract him, and with a flick of her writ tossed her visitor keycard to the floor at their feet before pulling away with a messy grin. "Thank you so much."

 

David sputtered a full ten seconds, his eyes large and his face red.

 

Lydia glanced down innocently as she backed up. "Oops. I think you dropped something." She looked pointedly down at the card on the floor and David looked at it and then to his empty cord and hurriedly bent down to retrieve and attach it.

 

"Oh, um...thanks...uh...."

 

'll see you in a bit." Lydia winked at him before spinning around, glancing down briefly to smooth the sticky strip of tape on the back of David's Keycard and then pushing open the double doors with a wicked grin. She passed through a short hall area before keying herself in again through another set of doors. And from then on. She was in. 

 

Lydia looked around slowly, taking in the few people in the large room in front of her, some watching TV, some sitting in chairs, and other's just walking aimlessly. For a moment she searched out Meredith, but there was no sight of her. Licking her lips Lydia turned and headed for the hallway to her left. According to Stiles there were only two main orderlies on duty during this time. One a major pot head who usually watched TV (which Lydia confirmed. He hadn't even glanced up), and the other a largely obese man who spent most of his shift sneaking off to the lounge. And judging he was nowhere to be seen Lydia guessed that it must have been his time to snack.  

 

She walked freely down the hall, passing a few rooms. She wouldn't really have to be stealthy until she entered the part of the hospital that housed the patient rooms. Luckily she'd come prepared. Moving to the end of the hall she approached a door and glanced through the small square window. According to Stiles there would be a bathroom just past to the left. Licking her lips Lydia used her card, and when the door lock flashed green she pushed in and scurried down the hall that was presently empty. She swung into the bathroom, glancing under the stalls to make sure they were empty and then proceeded to pull her blue jean jacket off and toss it to the ground. She was wearing a simple white and yellow striped button up under that was over a long billowy dress. She took them both off, revealing some maroon colored pajama pants that she kept on. Reaching down she retrieved her shirt and with slightly shaking fingers buttoned it all the way up and then released her hair from it's updo, moving to the mirror and running her hands through it a bit to make it not so...polished. She cringed at her too red lips and after a moment grabbed some tissue and wiped them off. Turning she gathered her clothes and with a cringe moved to the trash can and tossed them in. It wasn't like she had dressed in her best, knowing what she would have to do, but it still stung something awful to throw away something so loved so much. After a quick one over to make sure she looked fine - well not too fine - Lydia slipped her key card into the back pocket of her pajamas and with a deep breath moved back out into the hallway. 

 

She felt immediately at odds with herself. Don't get her wrong. She had played pretend before. Acted like someone she really wasn't. But never to this extent, where she would have to try and make her appearance look different, and she suddenly felt like she was out of her league and horrified that she wouldn't be able to help the guys. They were putting so much trust in her, and the reason for this was so freaking important and she just crossed her fingers that everything worked out okay.

 

Coming to a corner Lydia hesitantly glanced around, and almost sighed with relief when she saw a few patients wonderingly outside of their rooms. They wouldn't actually be locked in their rooms for a good hour still. Taking a calming breath Lydia headed into the hallway slowly, moving at a sluggish pace. She lowered her head until she was glancing up through a sweep of hair. The sight of an orderly walking down the hall towards her caused her gut to clench and Lydia froze, totally unsure what to do. One of the patients moved by her then, their shoulder pushing hard into her's and she stumbled sideways, automatically drawing attention to herself. The orderly turned his gaze to her, and Lydia's eyes widened slightly, her heart pounding in her ribe cage. She was going to be caught. It was all over. Scott and Stiles and Derek would be so disappointed in her.

 

And then, suddenly, a soft whisper was right behind her ear, traveling up her neck and causing her fine hairs to stand on end. Lydia froze, cocked her head to the side as her eyes became slightly vacant and she become enthralled with simply listening. The whisper brushed against her skin, sailing first from one ear and then around to the other, and Lydia closed her eyes slowly as she tried to make sense of it, to find the voice within the noise and seek out the words. When it felt like she had something just on the tip of her tongue the whisper pulled away suddenly, and Lydia jerked back to awareness, her eyes fluttering a moment. 

 

"Are you alright, Miss?"

 

Looking up Lydia found the orderly staring down at her with a frown. She looked at him a moment, her fear slowly subsiding when she realized he truly thought she was a patient. And after that little episode, who wouldn't?

 

"I'm fine." She replied meekly before looking away and starting to walk slowly again down the hall. After a few seconds she glanced over her shoulder and saw that the man had moved on again, making his rounds, and gave a sigh of relief. 

 

Coming to the end of the hall she glanced behind her once more, before scanning her keycard, and slipping out.

 

 

****************************************

 

 

 

"What's taking so long?!" Stiles paced back and forth across the street from Eichen House, running a hand through his hair worriedly. "She should be in by now. Why are we still waiting."

 

"It's fine, Stiles." Scott clasped a hand on his shoulder. "We just need to give her time. She's got this."

 

"Yeah, unless she doesn't!" Stiles drew out, pulling away and shaking his head. "You don't know what it's like in there, Scott. If she get's caught...oh God I don't even want to think about it."

 

"Well you're not doing any good getting yourself worked up about it." Derek drew out beside him, leaned against a tree. "You're heart beat's going crazy. You need to just relax. Deaton said-"

 

"Fuck what Deaton said!" Stiles hissed. "It's kind of hard to stay calm with everything that's happening. And honestly, telling someone who know's they are going to turn into a mindless killing machine at any minute to stay  _calm_ , kind of has the opposite fucking effect!! I mean come on guys! I know we're all ignoring the fact that the white in my hair's seemed to gotten twice as bad just from this morning!" As if to prove is point Stiles jerked his yellow and red stripped beanie off and pointed at his messy hair, which was, in fact, more white.

 

Scott stared at his hair with a look of sheer horror, while Derek ground his jaw tight and did not look, desperation written plainly on his face.

 

Stiles released a weary sigh before pulling the beanie back on, looking between the two of them with a defeated expression. "Guys if this doesn't work...if it's a dead end....I can't turn into that." He choked out, shaking his his head. "I won't. I don't care what you do, or how you do it. But you have to stop me."

 

"It's not going to come to that." Derek drew out with a soft but angry voice.

 

Stiles gazed up at the sky, as if praying for patience. "Look...just promise me one thing. If I start getting...bad....just use your super werewolf powers on me and lock me up somewhere, okay? Don't let me get out." He turned on Scott with pleading eyes. "Come on, man. It's not like I'm asking you to kill me. Just keep me away from everyone else until you guys have this thing worked out, okay?"

 

Scott glanced up at him and nodded after a moment. "Okay."

 

Stiles turned to Derek. "You got that, Sourwolf?"

 

Derek finally faced him, and for a long moment they held one another's gaze, each had a hard gleam to it. Determined for their own reasons. Derek opened his mouth to speak, but before doing so his gaze jerked away to look across the street and those brows pulled low. "She's there."

 

"What? Oh, thank God." Stiles moved forward immedietly. He didn't cross the street, but instead they all moved down until they would be safely out of the way of the camera's, and then finally crossed. "Okay so this should be pretty easy." Stiles muttered, approaching the bars around the mansion like hospital and very carefully slipping through them. He turned to look at Scott and Derek and found them eyeing the bars with obvious frowns. They would not fit. Before Stiles had time to freak out, through, Derek and Scott's eyes were glowing and then they were in the air. Stiles swung around with wide eyes as they landed behind him.

 

"Stiles, dude, you need to eat more." Scott chided, shaking his head.

 

Stiles opened and closed his mouth in clear flustered irritation a moment. "I'm lithe, okay?  _lithe_."

 

Scott rolled his eyes and turned away, but Stiles found Derek looking him over with an intensity that was far more than a little unnerving and he felt himself flush in embarrassment. Derek seemed to realize his distraught and cleared his throat, turning away stiffly to join Scott at window low to the ground on the building where the basement was. Stiles walked up just as Lydia was pushing it open, her head popping out, a smug grin in place.

 

"Hello, boys."

 

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Brag later."

 

Lydia just scoffed before moving away and Scott dropped down first. Derek pointedly turned to him and Stiles took the hint and followed suite, though he landed on his ass very ungracefully and unlike Scott. Derek dropped in close behind him as he was straightening, rubbing his now sore tail bone and waving his hand to ward off the piles of dust he had disturbed.

 

"Why am I always the one getting hurt in these situations?" He groaned unhappily.

 

""Maybe you've got bad mojo. You should totally see Deaton about it." Lydia offered and he flicked her off with a dry stare.

 

"Now what do we do?" Lydia stood looking very uncomfortable, glancing at every corner of the room as if a new breed of Dust Monster would soon attack.

 

"This, my dear, is the easiest part by far." Stiles popped a squat on a box behind him. "We wait."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY this chapter is a little late, guys! I had a busy day!! I'll try to get two in tomorrow to make up for it :) 
> 
> Also, Lydia demanded a chapter and i could not refuse lol


	25. Operation Eichen House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack start step two of their mission(FINISHED)

"Alright now,for the love of  _God_ please just listen to me and for once in your life do what I say, okay?"

 

Lydia arched a brow at Scott, who sat beside her. He just gave a crooked grin and looked back up at Stiles, who was basically crowding Derek's space with narrowed golden brown eyes. The werewolf had a similar stance with his back rigid and his nostrils flared as he sucked in annoyed breaths. Fortunately Stiles was unable to smell the slight twang of arousal coming from him, and Scott was freaking grateful for that. The last thing they needed that night was the two idiots shuffling around awkwardly neither really willing to fully evaluate the meaning. 

 

"Do you think they even know how gross they look?" Lydia breathed softly near his ear and Scott rolled his eyes.

 

"I highly doubt it. Besides, Stiles is pretty obviously about this stuff. He's never going to figure it out unless Derek comes straight out and tells him."

 

"And Derek is a stubborn ass who has a faithful relationship with his own pride." Lydia rolled her eyes with a sigh. "Oh god this is going to last forever. Scott I don't want to be witness to this forever."

 

Scott snorted. Like he did? Hell he was still trying to adjust to the fact that it was a thing at all.

 

"I already told you!" Derek drew out in a particularly angry voice then, his eyes flashing dimly blue. "Stiles I'm not going to kill anyone!"

 

"Good! Now here!" He shoved a bottle of pale colored dust into his hand. "Use this if you have to. But nothing else! You get it?!"

 

Derek growled and spun away as he rolled his eyes. "And what if that doesn't work, Stiles? I'm supposed to just stand there while they alert others and/or shoot me?"

 

Stiles' narrowed his eyes and glared at Derek a long moment before throwing up his hands. "Okay! Fine! If you absolutely have to use force, and there is no way around it, then yes, Derek, you can punch someone." At Derek's small feral grin Stiles held a hand up. "But you can't like it!"

 

"Yeah, yeah, I got it." Derek pushed past Stiles and headed up the slightly elevated level of the basement, moving towards the door. Scott and Lydia stood and followed him, Stiles close by.

 

"Do you hear anything?" Stiles said softly when Derek paused by the door, his head cocked slightly. "Derek.......do you--"

 

Derek threw a finger up and glared Stiles down, who sucked in a deep breath through his nose before falling back with his arms crossed over his chest. Derek turned back to the door and was silent.

 

Silent.

 

 Suddenly he ripped it open and quickly stepped out. There was fumbling heard just outside before Derek appeared again, an unconscious security guard draped over his shoulder, his face covered in beige powder.

 

Stiles hurriedly shut the door back behind Derek as he carried the man down into the basement before dumping him uncaringly on the ground, the loud smack of his head colliding with the concrete made Stiles cry out and stomp angrily to Derek.

 

"Really?!" He hissed before dropping beside the man and beginning to fumble with his clothing, grinning after grabbing a heavy set of keys from around his waist. "Gotcha!" He glanced up at Derek then as he began unbuttoning the unconscious guard's uniform shirt. "Alright, Sourwolf, strip."

 

Derek shifted his eyes to Scott and Lydia, who were watching him expectantly. " _Now_?"

 

"Yes, NOW!" Stiles looked up with a stern frown and then rolled his eyes. "Oh my God Derek it's not like we haven't seen it all before."

 

Derek drew back slightly at that, his eyes growing wide. "What?"

 

"Dude the times I've seen you with an actual shirt on is less than the time's I've seen you without! Scott come over here and help me lift him!" 

 

Scott nodded immediately and moved to help Stiles lift the guard up so he could take his shirt off fully. Stiles held the shirt up at Derek. Waiting.

 

Hissing Derek ripped his black sweater from over his head and tossed it to the floor. Lydia gave him a catcall and he glared dangerously at her before taking the shirt from a grinning Stiles. "You are all going to pay for this later."

 

"Stop pretending you don't like showing off the abs when we know you do." Stiles muttered before beginning to unbutton the guard's belt and then pants. He scooted down and pulled off his shoes, glancing up at Derek and arching a brow in aggravation when he saw that the wolf was still in his blue jeans. "Derek! Come on man, the pants."

 

Derek closed his eyes on a deep inhale, really wanting to murder his traitorous hormones. Even though it was in no way sexual, the fact that Stiles was still ordering him to take off his clothes...well...it was getting things worked up. Scott cringed and turned an 'are you serious' face his way and Derek almost groaned aloud. Gritting his teeth he turned until his back was to them and kicked off his shoes before beginning to undo his pants.

 

"Jesus this guy weighs a ton." Stiles hissed as he had a hard time getting the guy rolled over enough to pull his pants off of him. He gave one final jerk and fell back slightly when they were pulled free. Grumbling under his breath he rightened himself and turned to hand Derek the pants as well, choking at the perfectly round ass in his face. His eyes automatically lowered to the insanely toned thigh's and he felt a rush of warmth spread over him. Across from him Scott suddenly jumped up to a stand, rolling his eyes with a dramatic groan.

 

"Oh my God. I'm never going anywhere with you two again. I can't take this." He bit out before angrily strolling to stand beside Lydia, who was casually eyeing Derek up and down and apparently liking what she saw.

 

" _Stiles_!" Derek hissed then, though there was a strange undertone in his voice.

 

Stiles jerked out of his daze and felt his face burn from embarrassment. He immediately threw the pants at Derek, and as they slid over his shoulder the wolf grabbed a hold of them and made quick with pulling them on.

 

Stiles stood and walked away, trying to ignore the fact that he had totally been staring at Derek's ass. Like....not even blinking staring.  _I seriously have to get laid. Soon._ He fiddled with the keys in his hand before turning again and holding up his hand. "Here."

 

Derek moved stiffly forward and took them, careful to grab them at an angel that his skin didn't brush Stiles'. He clipped them to his belt and took a step back, holding his arms out. "Well?"

 

Lydia pursed her lips and looked him up and down. "Yeah. I'd buy it."

 

Derek nodded, seemingly pleased enough with that. 

 

"Okay, so you remember where he's supposed to be, right?" Stiles asked as he dug around in his bookbag and pulled out four blue tooth's. He handed the first to Derek who nodded and placed it in his ear. Lydia and Scott did the same and he followed. "You sure? Cause if we get the wrong guy--"

 

"Stiles I know!" Derek hissed impatiently. 

 

Stiles nodded and pulled out a paper that had one of the guard's photo on it. "Well I'm, going to show you again anyways."

 

Derek rolled his eyes but grabbed the paper from Stiles hand and looked down at the face he had already memorized. It was one of the guards that Lydia had seen the night she had come to Eichen House to help Deaton. "I told you. I know."

 

"Good. Cause he's the one that will have the information we need." Stiles took the paper again and after folding it up returned it to his backpack. 

 

"Don't worry I'll get what we need." Derek turned to head for the door and Stiles halted him with a hand on his shoulder.

 

"Wait." He looked up at Derek warily. "Just...try not to hurt him too much, okay?"

 

Derek grinned down at him with sharp teeth. "I'll try my best."

 

Stiles' face said he didn't really buy that but he nodded anyways. "Okay. Phones, guys."

 

Scott, Lydia and Derek nodded and they drew out their phones while Stiles fiddled with his, and then when Stiles had connected a line with every single one of them they all slid their cell's in their pockets and adjusted their blue tooth's to be sure they could hear fine.

 

"Alright. Step Two of Operation Eichen House is a go." Stiles drew out with a wide grin.

 

Derek and Lydia rolled their eyes at him; only Scott seemingly pumped up by the words as his eyes gleamed mischievously.

 

"And with that note, I'm out." Derek moved to the door, standing at it a moment, his head cocked, and then pulled it open silently and slipped out.

 

"Dude, we should so have our own spy movie." He heard Stiles' voice in his ear and couldn't help but shake his head with a slight grin as he moved down the hall. 

 

"Oh! Who would I be?" Lydia spoke up then.

 

"You would totally be the sexy villian-ess who was always a step ahead of the hero's. And cause you're so evil you'd most likely seduce Scott or something."

 

Derek heard Scott laugh in his ear and rolled his eyes as he turned a corner and headed further into Eichen House.

 

"I dunno Stiles." Lydia's voice took on a wicked, flirty tone. "Maybe I would seduce you."

 

Derek could practically see Stiles' dump dropped jawed expression in the silence after Lydia's words. And then came the sputtering. Yup. "What?"

 

"Yeah. I don't know what it is but you've been looking pretty hot lately. There's just something different about you and I've got to say, it's a huge turn on."

 

" _I don't think this is the time or place for that!_ " Derek hissed quietly, his eyes glowing. "Now shut the hell up so I can concentrate!"

 

He heard Lydia snickered and Stiles whisper of 'Such a Sourwolf' before they broke into silence. Derek almost sighed in relief. And while he'd go ahead and admit that he had felt a bit irritated by Lydia's words, it was true what he had said. He didn't need distractions right now. He was going to stumble upon some guards sooner or later, and the last thing he needed was to draw attention to himself. Moving to the elevator down the hall Derek pressed the button and waited impatiently for the doors to slide open. After they had he stepped in and pressed the button for the third floor, leaning back against the wall as the elevator began to move.

 

The man that he was searching for, Tom Bradley, was a 2nd level Security Guard at Eichen House. 2nd level meaning he had access to the secret floor that held the supernatural beings. Lydia had confirmed it after helping Deaton a few weeks back. The Guard had been there with Dr. Conrad Fenris, and they had been discussing the events that had led to the comatose state that Deaton had been in. According to the Hospital's data base that Stiles had managed to hack into, Bradley had a shift tonight. Not on the sixth floor (which was where the supernatural were inprisioned) but rather the third. Stiles had dug up some information on the man and discovered that he had a sister that was a resident of Eichen House, and once a week, always on the same day, his location was changed. Derek figured it must have been some arrangement he had made with the doctors so the man could watch over his sister while at work, which had worked out incredibly in their favor. The man had the information they needed to get to the secret floor of Eichen House. None of the elevators went past five, so there had to be some type of secret entrance, and they needed to know where and how to get into it. 

 

The elevator dinged then, and Derek drew straight, his body tensing as they began to open. He started into the eyes of another Guard standing outside and for a second neither of them moved. Then Derek gave a slight nod and began to walk. "How you doing."

 

The guard, a middle aged man with a bald spot, frowned at him slightly but nodded in greeting before passing him to enter the elevator, and Derek felt his eyes on his back. He held his breath, his heart picking up tempo just a bit, and then when the doors closed behind him he let out a long, calming breath.

 

"Everything okay there, Derek?" Stiles voice was soft in his ears and he nodded, even though the boy couldn't see him.

 

"Yeah. We're all good." 

 

"Awesome. You're doing great. Just talk if you need something."

 

And then there was silence again. Derek's gaze drifted down the empty corridor, glancing briefly into a few windows to patient rooms as he passed. What he saw was pretty normal for a mental hospital. Most of the patients were sleeping in their beds, though there were a few that paced the small area of their rooms, their eyes lifting to meet his as they passed, and only a few managed to freak him out with their manic intensity. All in all, though, it was quiet. Very quiet. Almost weirdly so. He wasn't sure why but he'd expected there to be screaming and wailing and people pounding on walls. Maybe he just watched too many horror movies, because apparently Mental Institutions were nowhere near as sadistic as they seemed in Hollywood. 

 

Turning a corner he paused, tilting his head and sniffing a moment. His ears picked up the sound of lazy footsteps to his left and right, and silence in front of him. Deciding to wing it, he turned to his right and continued. Rounding a curve he found a man in his mid forties standing outside of a door, his flashlight shining in through the window. His hair was salt and pepper colored, as was his beard, and his belly was a bit rounded from clearly one too many beers. "I have him." Derek said softly, his gaze searching around him and landing on a door that said 'Custodian Closet' not to far away. Perfect.

 

"Okay now remember, Derek, we DON'T want to draw attention to ourselves." Stiles voice a bit nervously in his ear.

 

Derek just gave a slow, wicked grin as he approached the man, who turned to look his way with a frown. "Yeah, I got it.....Hi there." Shit eating grin in place. "Bradely is it?"

 

The man, Bradley, deepened his frown as he turned. "Yeah. Who are you?"

 

Derek didn't bother to answer as he grabbed a hold of his head and slammed it against the door window, a low grown escaping the man's lips before his body went slack and slid to the floor.

 

"Oh my--what was that? I know that sound! Derek please tell me you didn't just shove him against a wall?!"

 

"I didn't shove him against a wall." Derek answered simply. Cause he hadn't. It had been a door. Well actually the little square window of the door. Frowning he moved forward to peer through and make sure the patient inside hadn't noticed. Derek saw a sleeping woman in on a bed. 

 

"Told you." Lydia mumbled and Derek heard Scott sigh.

 

Ignoring them Derek bent and easily picked up the unconscious man, throwing him over his shoulder and heading for the closet. To his disdain he found it locked, but after trying out a few of the keys on his belt he had it pulled open and locked it back behind him, pulling the cord on the ceiling bulb to turn on the light. The room was small and had various cleaning items in it. Derek deposited the man against the wall and bending down, pulled his head forward. His eyes flashed blue as his claws snapped out of his fingers and taking a deep breath he clenched his jaw for the ride to come before embedding them into the back of the man's neck.

 

 

*************************

 

 

 

"Stiles, calm down man." Scott muttered, watching Stiles pace the basement with a seriously peeved expression. 

 

"Why hasn't he said anything in the past fifteen minutes?" Stiles rushed out, madly running his hand over his white and dark brown hair, his beenie clenched in his other hand. 

 

"I don't know but I'm sure everything's fine." 

 

"If everything was fine he would answer!" Stiles hissed before finally collapsing on a box and crossing his arms over his chest with a sigh of both annoyance and worry. "Only he can get me this freaking worked up."

 

"Well maybe you should spank him when he get's back." Lydia offered dainty as she looked at her newly polished nails. Clearly she didn't care anymore about keeping her opinions of the Stiles/Derek matter a secret.

 

Stiles drew back with a extremely furrowed brow. "What? Ew...why..... _What?_ "

 

Lydia let her brows rise and fall in a quick fashion while Scott shook his head, his hand over his eyes as if he were trying to block out the image.

 

Just then the door to the basement began to turn, and Stiles and Lydia tensed, while Scott just looked up expectantly. Derek hurried in, silently shutting the door behind him before turning to face everyone with a cocky grin. Stiles was up immediately, marching over to him and pointing in his face. 

 

"Is your blue tooth not working?!"

 

Derek arched a brow. "It's fine."

 

"Then why the hell didn't you answer me for fifteen minutes?!"

 

Derek shrugged. "I guess because you were annoying me."

 

Stiles' nostril's flared a moment as he took in calming breath's, his eyes narrowing as a slow growing grin caught Derek's lips. "You better be glad you're not useless."

 

Derek just shrugged at that before pushing past Stiles and digging in his backpack for the blue print of Eichen House, spreading it out on the floor.

 

"What are you doing?" Stiles frowned as he approached.

 

"What does it look like? Marking off where the entrance to the sixth floor is."

 

"So it worked, then?"

 

Derek took a highlighter out and began marking the paper a moment before sitting back and looking first at Stiles, and then behind him to Scott and Lydia. "Yeah. It worked. I know how to get it. And it's not going to be easy."

 

Stiles sighed. "Of course it's not. Nothing is ever easy for us."

 

"You're going to have to change your rule, as well."

 

Stiles shook his head. "What rule?"

 

"The one with no physical altercations if at all possible." Derek looked up at him again, his eyes serious. "Cause where we are going, you're gonna want me to punch as many people as possible."

************************************************

 

Stiles had figured that working in a secret prison for all things supernatural had to include some type of fail safe- or immunity - for said creatures, and when Derek had picked that particular piece of memory from Berkley's mind and dropped that bomb on them, it had put a slight bump in their plan. According to Derek, at the beginning of each shift the guards took a type of special pill to make them immune to any type of supernatural sway. The big problem with that being Stiles wasn't sure anymore if his beddy bye powder would work on them. While it's true that the main components of the stuff were just crushed herbs and minerals, there had been a little bit of 'hocus pocus' that had been said after the initial mixing. Something that he really hadn't been planning on discussing with everyone else. It was just so freaking cliche and 'Stiles the Teenage Witch' that he felt too embarrassed to bring it up. Stiles already knew he had a certain affinity with certain things, nothing too strenuous or complex, and while Deaton had occasionally thrown out the word 'Spark' once or twice in the past, Stiles wouldn't even go that far. He had always had a strong understanding that if you believed something strong enough, it simply was. And he didn't even thing that was in any way magick. It just...was.

 

Stiles remembered a time long ago when he had still been a child; before his mother had fell ill. Every night she would sit on the edge of his bed and tell him stories. Not read from books, but actually sit there and make them up. Stiles had always been so amazed by her ability to pull something from nothing and create something so incredibly beautiful and intricate. Stiles remembered one night after she had told a particular story he had fallen in love with, about three immortal sleeping knights who only awoke when someone courageous and pure needed their help - he had asked her if they were real, wanting it to be true so much. His mother had smiled softly down at him, her brown eyes shinning as she pushed the hair away from his face and her hand lingered on his cheek. She had told him that as long as any one single person believed in something hard enough, anything could and would be real. That the power of creation first stemmed from the unending possibility of believing. Those words had stuck with him so strongly after that. Until his mother had gotten sick. He had believed so very much that she would get better. Believed with all his heart that they would both one day be back at home, in his bedroom listening to her tell beautiful stories again - not in some detached hospital room with blank walls that felt cold and unyielding, and that his mother would be fine again. When she had died, her words had lost their meaning, and it had taken a very long time for him to believe in anything as strongly again.

 

 

"...stiles....Stiles!"

 

Stiles jerked from his thoughts, looking up at Derek who was staring down at him with a frown, his eyes searching. "Are you okay?"

 

Stiles glanced from him to Scott and Lydia and realized they had been talking about something. Most likely important. Yeah. Damn you ADHD. "Sorry. Yeah. What were you saying?"

 

Derek's brows remained furrowed a moment before he pointed down at the blue prints laid out on the concrete. "I was telling Scott and Lydia that there is a control room for the first floor. It's not a regular control room, but hidden from the other employee's as well. There's two guards who take changing shifts, and if we want to reach the 6th floor, we'll have to get there first."

 

"Can't we just break into the 6th floor without having to go through the control room?" Stiles frowned because this was sounding more and more complicated and holy crap he was only 17 about to be 18 and he had not planned for all of this.

 

"Unfortunately there's no way around it." Derek bent down and pointed his highlighter to a circle on the blue print he had drawn. "This is the entrance to the sixth floor, which by the way is actually under the hospital. Don't even get me started on that uncoordinated mess. But anyways, there is a meticulous process before someone is allowed entry. The guard from the control room watches from a camera while the other goes through two different ID screenings, voice and image; and while we could steal someone's badge it will still be blatantly obvious that we're not that person, and we wouldn't be able to do the voice recognition at all. But after the person supplies those the control room guard would allow them entry remotely."

 

Stiles sat back with a sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face. "So we'll have to get to the control room no matter what."

 

Derek nodded. "And while you're 'magic powder' may work for the guards there, we still don't know if it will work on the one's in the actual prison. Which means--"

 

"We're going to have to fight." Stiles muttered.

 

"A lot." Derek said with a small nod. "From what I gathered from Berkley, the place is usually tight on security too...." Derek drew off, looking like he was clearly not liking how things were going. "It's...going to be hard. Very hard. (that's what he said ; ) Are you sure we want to do this?"

 

"What?" An incredulous look came over his face, his gaze going back and forth between the three in front of him. "Yes! I'm not just sitting back anymore, guys. We don't have time for that. How many more people do we have to see -" Stiles drew off, shaking his head angrily. "No. I'm not letting it happen. We're going to get down there, and get some answers. I'll do it myself if i have to."

 

"Hey." Scott laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, his brown eyes bright with promise. "We all agreed to do this. No one's going to leave. We're doing this together. Right guys?"

 

Lydia rolled her eyes dramatically. "Please. You guys would be lost without me."

 

Stiles smiled at her before turning slowly to look at Derek, who was watching him with dark eyes, and for a moment Stiles thought he was going to tell them all how stupid and dangerous this was. He eventually released a deep sigh, lowering his head before cutting his eyes up at Stiles with a wry grin. "I've got to make sure you don't get yourself killed, don't I?"

 

Stiles laughed slightly, unable to keep the teasing hint from his voice. "Like I haven't saved your werewolf ass countless times."

 

Derek nodded solemnly at that, his eyes serious. "I know. Which is why I'm not leaving you now."

 

The look in his eyes just then, the raw honesty in them, it made something deep inside of him shift and for a slight second something crossed behind his vision, something so solid and yet smoky at the same time, and Stiles felt a slight pang in the back of his neck and his conscious seemed to whisper 'Remember', but then it was gone almost as quickly as it had come, and left him sitting there so very confused and suddenly very much aware and Stiles found himself looking away from Derek's eyes, a heat wave rushing over his body. "So how are we going to do this then?" He sounded a little breathless and that only confused him more.

 

Across from him Derek sucked in a deep inhale before clearing his throat, his brows low. "I don't think all four of us should go to the control room together. It's too conspicuous and will draw attention. I think it would be best if we split up into groups of two. Whichever group goes to the control room will let the other in."

 

"And we're supposed to do that by knocking out the guard, I suppose?" Of course they were. Why had Stiles even asked.

 

"It's really the only option we have at the moment." Derek shrugged like it wasn't a big deal at all, and Stiles supposed it wasn't to him.

 

Lydia frowned then, cocking her red head slightly. "So....how is the group in the control room supposed to get in if you can only gain entry from the control room?"

 

"The guards that take shifts of the control room have a fall back key they keep with them at all times. One group will need it to manually enter the prison after the other."

 

"Is that safe, though?" Scott asked. "I mean won't one group be sitting ducts in there?"

 

"Not exactly. Once they enter the area there's an elevator that takes you down. You guys will just have to stay in there and wait for us."

 

"Okay. So aside for the various security with guns that will most likely be shooting at us, and the whole act of breaking into the control room in the first place, it doesn't sound too bad." Who said he wasn't an optimistic?? Stiles was all for positivity.

 

"Look's like you'll finally be able to try out your toys." Derek jerked his chin to point towards the thick leather bracelet on Deaton had given him. "Let's just hope it actually works."

 

Stiles gave a little fist pump. "About time, dude, I was wondering when I was gonna be able to use this thing. So Scotty boy what do you say? You and me? Control room?"

 

Scott cut his eyes briefly to Derek. "Uh, I dunno man. I think this would be more up Derek's alley. With his unending need for violence and you're brain's it's the perfect team for the control room mission."

 

"Whaaaat? Seriously, dude? You leaving me hanging?"

 

"He has a point." Lydia twirled a lock of red hair indifferently. "The two of you together makes the most sense."

 

Stiles didn't know why but he could have sworn that sentence was laced with so many undercurrents he could have taken a dip and swam. Stiles looked up to Derek and found him glaring intensely down at the blue prints, and damn if that wasn't making him feel awkward. "Derek?"

 

The wolf grunted in reply.

 

"Was that a yes? I don't speak Caveman."

 

Derek closed his eyes with a sigh before answering in a gravely voice. "Yes, Stiles"

 

"Aww, see. Words are so much better." Stiles gave a cheeky grin and patted him on the back briefly, jerking his hand and holding it up passively when a rumbling growl bubbled from Derek's chest. "Still not one for jokes. Got it." He hopped up then, fueled with more energy and proactive-ness than he most likely should have in such a situation. Yay for ADHD! And let's not forget his never ending ability to run head first into dangerous situations. Cause that never got old. "Alright. Let's do this thing."

 

"Just to clarify..." Lydia stood, brushing her pajama pants off. "No one knows we are here."

 

"Right." Stiles grinned.

 

"So no one will come to save us if we need it."

 

"Right!"

 

Lydia nodded after a silent moment. "Well, let's go then. Derek?"

 

Derek nodded and handed Lydia one of the rolled up blue prints. "Just head to where I marked on the map. There are various entrances and one is on this floor so you don't have to worry about running into anyone in the elevators or stairs. Unlike us." Derek added with a sigh.

 

"I'm gonna go ahead and suggest that the stairs would most likely be the safest route." Stiles offered as if that wasn't the logical plan.

 

"Okay, guys. Phones again." Lydia said, this time pulling her's out and waiting until everyone was connected before slipping it back into her pocket.

 

For a moment the four of them stood there, looking at one another, adrenaline pumping between them as they braced themselves for whatever was to come.

 

"Be careful. Please." Scott was the first to speak, turning worried eyes first to linger on Stiles and then Derek.

 

"Same goes for you guys." Stiles nodded, glancing between him and Lydia.

 

After a moment later Scott nodded and placing his hand on the small of Lydia's back directed her towards the door. Derek and Stiles followed, and they were silent as Scott listened a moment, before pulling the door open and they all ushered out. Everyone cast one last glance at each other before heading in opposite directions.

 

Stiles finally turned to look in front of him, his expression awash in worry.

 

"They'll be fine." Derek drew out as they hastily but quietly rounded the corner and headed down another hallway.

 

"I know. Scott can be a badass when the occasion calls for it. I just hope that no one finds the trail of unconscious bodies we're most likely going to be leaving behind. Cause let's face it. It never goes smoothly for us."

 

"Let's just hope Scott is smart enough to stow them somewhere where they won't be found." Derek said as he approached a door, and after glancing left and right pushed it open to reveal a stairwell.

 

Stiles snorted. "Let's be honest here and just change that sentence to 'let's hope Lydia is smart enough to tell Scott where to store them' so they won't be found."

 

"Hey! I heard that!"

 

Stiles jumped slightly at the sound of Scott's voice in his ear and he cringed immediately, Derek chuckling. "Oh crap. I forgot you guys were listening. Uh...my bad Scotty. But come on man...we all know it's true." He heard Scott huff a bit though his blue tooth.

 

"That doesn't mean I 'm still not offended."

 

Derek gave a sharp toothed grin as he silently allowed the door to close behind them. He looked up and down the stairwell a moment. "Alright. The control room's on the first floor. Let's hope that the security isn't too bad because while I may be able to walk around unnoticed you on the other hand we could have problems with."

 

Stiles scoffed and stared down at his black wash jeans and high colored black jacket. "What? I was trying to look the part!"

 

"Yeah, Stiles, that's the point." Derek bit out as they headed down the stairs. "I'm just glad the damned hat isn't black."

 

"Beanie, Derek, beanie." Stiles grumbled, self consciously lifting a hand to make sure it was steady in place. "And I'm pretty sure the whole white hair thing is a little more attention drawing, don't you think?"

 

Derek glanced up at him briefly, his gaze searching, before turning to look ahead. "We're going to stop it. Whatever this thing is. And then you'll be back to normal."

 

Stiles bit down on the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted the sharp tang of blood. "I already said we don't know that. This thing could be permanent for all we know."

 

"But we don't know, Stiles. We don't know anything about this thing. Not yet."

 

Stiles didn't say anything to that. He felt to...raw and unhinged. Like if he talked too much about it he'd break and really go insane, and that was the last thing he wanted. He cast a slight glance over to Derek, who was swiftly taking the steps with a determined stride. "Hey. I - uh...I just wanted to say again thanks for taking the time to try and train me." He was increasingly aware of the fact that Scott and Lydia were listening in on the conversation as well, and tried to keep it as light as possible. Why he was saying it at all he had no freaking clue. "I know you didn't have to. It meant a lot."

 

Derek looked up at him, his eyebrows slightly raised. After a moment he nodded and looked away. "You're welcome. And training you, Stiles. We aren't done yet. You still have a lot to learn."

 

Stiles didn't comment on that, and tried to hide his bitter laugh. With the way things were going, they may not have time to train again before he went psycho and started attacking people. The very thought made him feel so....uncomfortably cold inside. Like he had felt when he had passed through the creature. It was a deadening feeling, and that horrified Stiles because the last time he had started feeling that numb he had....No. He couldn't think of that. Not right now.

 

Beside him, Derek licked his lips, glancing sideways at Stiles again. "So last night...."

 

Stiles was pulled out of his thoughts, and he looked at Derek with a frown. "Huh"

 

Derek cleared his throat. "Last night. You drank a lot."

 

Lydia suddenly snorted in their ears. "A lot? He freaking could have drank a whole liquor store."

 

Stiles heard Scott shush her and Lydia tsk before they fell into silence again and Stiles spoke carefully. "Oh, yeah. I guess you're right. I'm still kind of feeling the effects of that hangover." Stiles said with a soft cringe. They walked in silence a moment longer and Stiles glanced at Derek before speaking again. "You weren't at the loft this morning. I hope we didn't piss you off too much. I know the last thing you wanted was to deal with a bunch of drunken teenagers."

 

Derek stopped then, and it was so swiftly that Stiles actually collided with his back. He let out a little 'oof' before pulling away slightly, and then Derek was staring down at him with a careful, guarded expression that was so totally confusing to Stiles. "You don't....do you remember anything that happened last night?"

 

Stiles had no freaking clue why his heart suddenly started going overtime in his chest and he began to twitch with nervous energy. "Uh...not a lot..." When Derek's eyes began to narrow Stiles caved, drawing back and holding his hands up. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry I know I was sleeping in your bed and I have no idea how I got there. I must have crawled up there some time during the night and I know it's not freaking cool but I'm sorry! And I freaked out and may or may not have went a little crazy spraying your cologne trying to mask my scent or something cause I didn't want you to kill me and it was just a huge mistake and I'll never get drunk at the loft again I swear so can you relax the death brows cause you're freaking me out right now." Holy cow how had he managed to get that all in without breathing?!

 

"What?! You were sleeping in his bed?!"

 

Annnd that would be Lydia. Stiles groaned even as he heard Scott shushing her again, a bit more loudly.

 

Derek shook his head with clear skepticism before twisting away with a growl, running his hand through his head, ignoring Scott and Lydia. No damn wonder his room had smelled so damn strong. The fact that Stiles didn't remember a damned thing had him spinned with so many mixed emotions. He was both glad and disappointed, and of course the freaking guilt was there again, roaring it's ugly head. God why couldn't he just forget like that? It would make things so much more easier if they were both blissfully ignorant, because no matter how hard he tried, Derek couldn't get the fucking image of Stiles moaning and arching so wantonly under him from his mind. It was like a fucking movie on repeat that, and every time he and Stiles' eyes caught, every fucking time Stiles touched him, it was like his body went into overdrive and it was hard just to freaking breathe! Derek was going fucking crazy and he didn't know how much longer he could take it. Because even now his wolf was digging it's claws in and twisting to come out, every instinct Derek had screaming at him to shove Stiles against the wall and press himself so firmly against his body that neither one of them could breathe. To grip the nape of his neck and tilt his head back. Claim those plump lips that were always so fucking pink and slightly parted. God he just needed to taste him again. Taste the sweet burning honey of his mouth mixed with something more, something so familiar that it calmed him and drove him insane at the same time.

 

Stiles stared at Derek with wide eyes, watching the wolf as his face grew more and more intense, and when a low growl slipped from his throat he backed up a bit, his heart fluttering. "Dude...seriously I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. I just...I'm sorry?"

 

Derek sucked in a deep breath and shook his head, starting down the stairs again with maddening intent. "Come on." He bit out gruffly.

 

Stiles swallowed hard, wondering if he should be worried because clearly Derek looked like he was about to go on a murderous spree. Which really wasn't good for anyone. A little warily Stiles headed down after him, really wishing Scott had come with him instead.

 

Derek stopped outside a door then, his head cocked to the side in silence. He turned back to Stiles with a growl. "The security is a little more tight up here. I can hear at least two people directly in the hall and then a few more past that."

 

"So what are we going to do?" Stiles asked.

 

Derek's lips pulled back in a slow, feral smile, and Stiles felt his gut twinge in wariness. "Guess I'll just have to get them out of the way."

 

Scott and Lydia sighed into their ears and Lydia muttered a soft 'told you'.

 

"Derek you can't let them start shooting. It will blow our cover immediately." Stiles hissed.

 

Derek gave a grunt in reply before reaching to push in the large metal handle. "just stay here, Stiles. I'll come back when it's clear."

 

"What? No way in hell!"

 

"Stiles."

 

"Derek." Stiles mocked angrily. "No. I don't care what you say. I'm not staying here. Plus did you forget that we can use the powder on these guys?"

 

Derek rolled his eyes. "No. I just chose to ignore it."

 

"Stiles maybe you should just stay there."

 

Scott chose to put his two cents in then and Stiles crossed his hands over his arms even though they couldn't see it and scowled. "Look. If he gets to punch people, I get to help. Not punch people! You guys know what I mean."

 

Derek stared down at him a moment before rolling his eyes, clearly annoyed. "Fine, Stiles. Just don't get freaking killed! There's a guard down the hall straight to your right. You take care of him and I'll head for the other's."

 

Stiles nodded. "I can do that. Okay." He licked slightly dry lips, his pulse racing a bit.

 

"Wait. I don't think I like this plan." Scott objected.

 

Stiles glowered. "Well you aren't here at the moment so you don't get a say. Now shut up before I hang up on you guys." Scott gave a long sigh, but did not say anything else.

 

Derek was staring impatiently at him, arms crossed over his chest. "Done? Alright now come on."

 

"Be careful, guys." Lydia whispered.

 

"Don't worry. We will." Stiles took the bottle from his jacket and immediately poured some of the pale powder in his fist. The door opened and then he was out. Stiles looked to his right and saw the guard strolling down the hall away from him. He cast a quick glance to see Derek already prowling after the other guard and immedietly moved to do the same, his nerves making him twitchy. When the guard heard his approach Stiles quickly lifted his hand and blew it in the man's face right when he turned. The guard looked briefly surprised and was reaching for his gun, before he stumbled slightly and his eyes rolled back in his head, and he went down. Stiles jumped away from him as he hit the floor, staring down at him with an open mouth before grinning like an idiot. "Hell yeah!" He hissed, turning to Derek to prune and preen a bit but saw that he was nowhere in sight. Pouting slightly Stiles reached down and grabbed the baton from the guard just in case he would need it later and then began the annoying and slow process of dragging him to the stair case. Once the man was outside of the door Stiles looked up, but still did not see Derek. Beginning to worry he headed down the hall to the left, lifting his brows when he saw someone laying unconscious on the floor with a rather painful looking bruise on their cheekbone. He gingerly stepped over the guy and kept walking, and soon began to hear a struggle. His heart skipping Stiles took off at a run, turning a corner to see another man lying unconscious on the floor and Derek fighting two more. He had just harshly slung one against the wall but the other guard was coming on him quick, and Stiles saw with horror that he had a stun gun in his hand. "Derek!" He hissed, and Derek twisted around instantly, grabbing a hold of the man's wrist and twisting it hard. Stiles cringed as he heard a snap and the man cry out as the stun gun dropped to the floor. Derek grabbed the back of the man's head with his other hand and jerked him forward hard, lifting his knee to slam it in his face. Stiles cringed again, a fist to his mouth as he heard the man's pained groan.

 

Stiles noticed that the man he had against the wall seconds ago was struggling to a stand again, his eyes narrowed. Stiles felt his feet carrying him before he could even think and suddenly his fist was slamming into the guy's face. Stiles hissed in pain, holding his now throbbing fist as the man's eyes rolled back in his head and he went sliding down the wall's again. In front of him Derek slammed the man's head against the wall and let him drop to the floor before turning to look at Stiles with wide eyes. "What are you doing?!" He hissed.

 

"Helping you, jackass!" Stiles hissed back, hopping around a bit still holding his hand.

 

Derek tsked and closed the distance between them, grabbing Stiles hand.

 

"Ahhh! Pain man, come on!"

 

"Stiles?! Are you okay?" Scott's worried voice filled his ear.

 

Derek cut him a glare before examining his hand. "He's fine. Just a dumbass." He spoke to Scott before looking back up at Stiles. "It doesn't look like it's broke, luckily." He spit out. "You're fist was just too loose. You need to remember to keep it tight next time." He added.

 

Stiles nodded, about to pull his hand back but Derek held on with a growl, and Stiles watched in slight surprise as the veins in his arm began to bleed black and after a second his hand didn't hurt anymore. "Oh....wow that's...still really cool....thanks."

 

Derek nodded stiffly before bending to grab one of the men and hauling him over his shoulder, then bent and grabbed the material of the shirt at the other's shoulder and started to drag him down the hall. "Get the guns."

 

Stiles shook himself before looking down at the floor and seeing two guns. He nodded and grabbed them and hurried after Derek. When they came to the third guard Stiles didn't need Derek to tell him and grabbed a hold of his shirt, dragging him behind Derek to where he had left the other guard. "You think it's safe to just leave them on the stairwell?"

 

"Do you honestly think anyone uses it?" Derek drew out unworriedly as he pushed the door open and none to gently started tossing them in.

 

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Stiles dragged his guy in there and laid him gently with the others. After a moment he took out his powder and moving to the one's that hadn't got a face full of it began blowing it at them.

 

"What are you doing?"

 

"Just making sure. We don't know how long they'll be out and at least with this we'll have a more set time."

 

Derek nodded after a moment. When Stiles was done he jogged back to Derek and let the door close behind hIm. "Okay. So how far away to the control room?"

 

"Not too far."

 

"Do you think there will be any more guards."

 

"Most likely."

 

Stiles sighed. He had really wanted to go through this thing preferably without knocking out all of the employee's. The more bodies, the higher chance they would be discovered. Plus, the fact that Derek was smiling about this was all just a little...disconcerting. "I don't think you should be so happy about attacking people."

 

"I think you should be happier." Derek retorted easily enough.

 

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Scotty my man how are you guys?"

 

Scott replied immediately. "So far so good. Lydia has a freakishly good sense of just how and when to move so guard's won't see us. I'm almost starting to think she's psychic too." He added with a laugh.

 

"Oh wow. Nice going Lydia."

 

"Yeah, well it can't last forever." Lydia breathed. "I'm just hoping when we do run into someone Scott fulfill's his manly duty and protects me."

 

Stiles couldn't help but snort at that. As if Lydia Martin needed protecting. Hell sometimes they needed protection of her. "Alright well we're gonna keep heading for the Control Room. You guys be careful."

 

"Yeah, you too." Scott replied before the lines fell into silence again.

 

Stiles glanced up at Derek as they walked feeling like, okay, yeah, maybe the night had started out a little shaky, but it seemed like they really were a good team. Now if Derek could just get past his surliness they'd be good. Cause, seriously, how freaking exciting was this?! Stiles was basically living out every spy movie he had ever watched, and it was flipping awesome.

 

No seriously. This was like a Kodak moment.

 

Where was a camera when you needed one?

***************************

 

 

 

The Control Room was literally hidden in plain sight. There were no flipping bookcases or secret magical words. All it took was hopping into a particular elevator in the first floor, Derek scanning his 'borrowed' keycard, and then suddenly the door's behind them (that's right, yay for two sided elevator doors!) were opening and in front of them was a short hallway that lead to another door, which lead to the Control Room. The hallway looked dim and uninviting, the lights briefly flickering on and off and Stiles couldn't help but think if this were a movie the moment they stepped into the area the elevator doors would seal closed behind them and they would be ambushed. "Stay here." Derek said sternly beside him, and cutting a glare down at him to make sure his point was made.

 

  
_Loud and clear, buddy_. Stiles though, really having no interest to step into the narrow corridor of death. As Derek began to slowly walk forward, Stiles placed his foot on the edge of the elevator door to make sure it didn't shut on him. Cause how awkward would that be? Looking back up he scanned the hallway and cringed when he saw something they hadn't really been expecting. Which made no sense because it was pretty logical. "Derek, there's a camera!" Stiles called, watching as Derek paused slightly but did not glance up to look around. Smart guy. "It's right above the door, pointing down. How are we going to do this??" 

 

"It'll be fine." Derek said, feeling Stiles no doubt begin to panic. "I'll just keep my head down. I do have a keycard." He said.

 

Stiles didn't really feel too assured, but that's the best he was gonna get he supposed. "Okay. Just...don't look up."

 

Derek nodded stiffly in front of him before moving forward again, his shoulders tense. Stiles felt like his stomach was dropping to his feet with each step closer to the camera Derek took, until he was finally stopping under it in front of the door. Stiles cringed, waiting for alarm bells to suddenly sound throughout the entire place. Across the hall Derek lifted the keycard in his hand and scanned it in the system. There was an agonizing moment of silence, before a green light and a little beep finally appeared, and Stiles almost passed out he was so relieved. 

 

"Come on!" Derek urged as the metal of the door began to shift, signaling it's opening, and Stiles rushed out of the elevator and started down the hall just as the door slid open. Stiles got a glimpse of a wall of monitors and before Derek was rushing forward and the next thing he knew all hell had broke loose.

 

Stiles stumbled in to see Derek take a hard hit to the face, momentarily jarring him and making him stumble backwards. Stiles accessed the situation as quickly as possible. There was a rolling chair tipped over from where the guard must have been sitting. And the Control Room guard? Holy shit. Stiles had expected some nerdy Tech dude who ate Ramen at his desk and had fogged up glasses. The man currently shoving his fist into Derek's face yet again look more like someone from the Sweddish Mob. Or a hunter. He was tall and broad, his tight uniform jeans show casing some seriously threatening thigh muscles. He had taken his button up on and a white tee was stretched over massive shoulders and arms, which were covered in tattoos of awesome things like skulls and skeleton messengers of death. All in all he doubted the man had MOM written in a heart any where on his body, and from the way Derek was presently getting his ass handed to him, Stiles figured the wolf had been expecting something different as well.

 

Stiles hurriedly fumbled in his pocket, vaguely hearing Scott shouting out his name. His phone was dropping hard against the floor then, the back and battery popping out and then his blue tooth went silent. Stiles ignored it, desperately trying to find his powder as Derek and the guard went at each other, slamming each other into the mainframe and pushing buttons that most likely did not need to be pushed. His hand finally on the small glass bottle, Stiles popped the cork and poured a little too much into his hand, some spilling from his palm to land on the ground. "Derek don't breathe!" He shouted just as he was beside them, and Derek's brows shot up before Stiles saw him take in a sharp inhale, and as the guard was jerking his gaze his way, bent over Derek on the desk, Stiles blew the powder into his face.

 

The man stumbled back immediately, shaking his head and blinking rapidly, trying to wipe the stuff off of his face. Derek jerked straight, doing the same, careful not to breathe. As second after second ticked by, Stiles felt increasing dread building. 'Oh god the powder doesn't work on him, Derek." He drew out weakly.

 

The man finally stopped pawing at his face and turned a glare their way, and then he was crossing the floor towards them.

 

He felt more than seen Derek go into his wolfed out half transformation before Stiles was shoved aside. Derek bowed his back slightly in a thunderous roar at the guard, who horrifyingly did not even falter in his murderous march. And then they were going at it again. Stiles cringed as Derek swiped his claws across the man's chest before the guard came barreling into him, both of them falling to the floor. Sweddish Mafia straddled a growling Derek, slamming his fist into his face over and over again. Derek roared, his claws shooting out and digging deep into the man's side. The guard hissed and slid slightly sideways. Derek used the opening and forcefully rolled with him until their positions had switched and then it was Derek's turn to pulverize the guys face. All the while Stiles stood there, frantic, having no idea what he was supposed to do. His few training sessions sprang to mind, but really? It had only been one session with Argent on how to throw a knife, and two with Derek on punching a bag. What the hell was he supposed to do with that?

 

Weapon. He needed a weapon. Anything. Stiles began looking around the room, taking in the monitors and keyboards and holy shit he couldn't use any of that!

 

He heard a grunt of pain then and when he next turned Derek was on the ground again and Stiles let out a cry of frustrated helplessness. He did the only thing he could think of. Grabbing a wooden chair sitting in the room he rushed over to the two fighting bodies and lifting it up, slammed it down on the guard's back.

 

The chair broke. FREAKING BROKE. The guard stilled in his attack, actually twitched, before turning crazy eyes up at Stiles. "Oh my god I'm going to die." 

 

Before he could even think to turn tail and run Derek had his hand on the nape of the man's neck suddenly and was jerking him downwards, and Stiles cringed in painful sympathy when the wolf headbutted the man with a very loud bang. The guard swayed slightly, and then Derek fist was colliding with his right cheek and he went sideways. Derek rolled with him again, his fist's colliding with the man's face with murderous intention, his blue eyes blazing.

 

Stiles stared down at him a moment, caught up in the horror, before he rushed forward and grabbed a hold of Derek's shoulders, pulling him back. "Derek! Stop! You're going to kill him!"

 

Derek swung around on him with a growl and Stiles stumbled backwards with wide eyes, holding his hand up. That frenzied, blue gaze of Derek's bore into his a moment, his gaze looking him up and down as if he were trying to remember who Stiles was, and then he fell sideways with a groan, scrubbing his hand over a face that had reverted back to human consistency. His chest was rising and falling in short, quick motions, and though the wounds on his body were even now healing, his face was still smeared in blood.

 

"Holy shit dude..." Stiles finally spoke. "Either that dude wasn't human, or he was one some pretty hard juice."

 

Derek grunted in agreement, struggling to his feet. Stiles rushed forward and grabbed his arm, pulling it around his shoulder and helping him stand. "So what are we supposed to do with him?" Stiles drew out, staring down at the unconscious man. "We don't know how long he'll be out and the powder doesn't seem to work on him."

 

"We'll have to tie him up." Derek said simply.

 

"Um, okay. You bring any rope? Cause I know I didn't."

 

"We'll just have to make due." Derek said, beginning to move a bit unsteadily still towards the man and Stiles went with him. 

 

When they were hovering over him Derek pulled his arm back and reached down with both hands to begin undoing his belt.

 

 

Stiles arched a brow immediately. "Uh, what are you doing?"

 

 

"It's the closest thing we've got." Derek grunted out before glancing up at him, looking him over a moment. "Take your shirt off. I need it."

 

 

Stiles balked. "What?! Why?"

 

"Because we're going to need something to tie his leg's too, Stiles!"

 

"Why don't you use your shirt?!"

 

"Because I'm not wearing a damned jacket!"

 

 

Stiles glared down at him, totally seeing the logic behind it but still pissed none-the-less. "Fine!" Reaching down he angrily began unbuttoning his coat before letting it pool at his feet. He made sure to glare good and long at Derek before jerking his faded graphic tee over his head and throwing it at him, actually cringing when it landed on Derek's head. "I so didn't mean to do that." He rushed out, watching Derek growl under his shirt before jerking it from his head.

 

 

Derek looked up at him fiercely, like he was about to say something, and then paused, his eyes widening slightly as he stared at Stiles' neck. Sucking in a sharp inhale he jerked his gaze away and began ripping the fabric of the shirt.

 

"What?" Stiles frowned, feeling a bit nervous from the magnitude of that stare as he quickly reached down to retrieve his coat and pulled it back on, beginning to button.

 

"Nothing." Derek grunted out, rolling the man to his stomach and beginning to secure his hands with the belt. "Why don't you see if you can make sense of the computers."

 

 

Stiles frowned at him before nodding and turned around to do so, his fingers fumbling with button's still. He took a seat at the rolling chair and scooted forward, catching his reflection in one of the black screen's. The left side of his collar was folded under and he reached to straighten it out, his hand stilling as his neck was bared a little more. Frowning he leaned forward and pulled the collar aside more, squinting into the screen before his eyes shot wide. He lifted a hand immediately to his neck and touched the dark blotch, cringing when it ached slightly.

 

  
_Why the fuck did he have a hickey?!_ How the hell had it gotten there?! And why did it hurt so much when it touched it? It was more like a bruise than actual hickey! Oh, god had he.....did he....had Ryan given him a hickey?!? Stiles quickly tried to go over everything he remembered about last night. He clearly remembered him and Ryan kissing but then they had went back downstairs with everyone. Had they at some point when he had been totally drunk....did they...had he.....Oh my god had Stiles had man-sex?! A whole new kind of panic bubbled up in him then, because though he had finally admitted to himself that he was attracted to guys, he had never really contemplated the freaking mathematics of it! Actually he had been a little too horrified to think about it! But if he and Ryan had had sex...had he been....or was he.....which was....ARGH!?!??!?!?! Stiles felt okay. He wasn't feeling anything but the last linger bit of his hangover. If he had been....if  _that_ had happened to him he would know it, right?! Suddenly Stiles remembered waking up that morning, remembered what state he had been in, and paled. Oh god. Did that mean they HAD done it? Or maybe they hadn't done it. Maybe they had just fooled around a little and OMG HAD THEY FOOLED AROUND IN DEREK'S BED?!?!?!

 

 

"Stiles if you do not freaking stop I'm going to kill you!" Derek suddenly hissed out from where he crouched tying the man's feet together, his shoulder's stiff. "I don't know what kind of freak out you're having over there but stop!"

 

 

Of course Derek could smell his freaking conflicted emotions! Horrified of what he could have possibly done in the wolf's bed he buttoned his coat until it was all the way to his neck, trying to slow his rapid heart beat. He had to get a grip on this. He was fine. He'd deal with it later. They had more important things to handle at the moment. Storing the question away until a later time when he could talk to Ryan again, Stiles gave a slight nod and focused on the monitors in front of him. There were about twelve small ones and two large ones directly in front of him. The two were focused on a small corridor space and Stiles realized they were elevators. One said 1st and the other 3rd. It must be the two entrances to the 6th floor. "Okay so I see the entrances for the 6th floor."

 

 

"Okay, great." Derek grabbed Stiles' broken phone and carried it to Stiles, who said a quick hank you and popped the battery back in.

 

 

"How's Scott and Lydia holding up?"

 

 

"Scott's screaming in my ear and it's really annoying!" Derek bit out, his words rising with the last bit as if to tell the Alpha to shut the hell up. "We're fine, Scott. Yeah...we're here now. He's looking at everything. Scott!"

 

 

Stiles shifted anxiously, staring up at Derek pointedly. After a moment of glaring down at Stiles Derek eventually rolled his eyes and pulled his blue tooth from him ear and shoved it in his hand. "You can freaking calm him down." He drew out with a grunt before moving forward and laying his palms on the table's edge, squinting at the other screen's in front of them. "Is this....."

 

 

Stiles slid the piece into his ear and glanced up, still hearing Scott talking a mile a minute. "Yeah. It's the cell's." Stiles muttered before he began to try and calm down a frantic Scott.

 

 

Derek stared at the screens with narrowed eyes. The camera's were on holding cells, and Derek could see people within them. Well...some were people. Or at least looked like people. The other's? Derek drew forward more, his interest highly peeked. In one cell he saw a man with familiar scaled skin and flashing eyes pacing back and forth. Kanima. On another he found a woman with what looked like feathers sprouting from her body, with a long hooked nose and slanted eyes. She sat silently on her cot, face filled with both fury and hopelessness. Derek looked at another, and another. Some were slamming against their cell's, screaming. Some were pacing the floor, their bodies rippling as if they were about to jump out of their skin, but the most horrifying ones were the people who sat against their walls on on their beds, their shoulders hunched and head's lowered down to their chest. Derek cringed at the sight, trying to imagine what it was like to be in one of the cells, not able to move but ten or so feet. Not able to run, to feel the wind hard against your face or the moon calling from over head. Feeling his breath catch in his throat at the horror of even thinking about it, Derek turned to look away, but something made him freeze, his eyes slowly growing wide and his jaw slacking. He felt the breath leave his lungs in a rush of choked air.

 

 

Beside him Stiles nodded at something Scott had said. "Yeah. Yeah okay I'll remember. Derek we've got to find out which one of these button's will get us down there. Derek you hear me? ....Derek?" Frowning up at him Stiles saw how the wolf's gaze was glued, almost horrified, to the screen's and slowly turned to see what he was looking at. "What is it?" He asked softly.

 

 

A strangled sound came from Derek's throat. "Peter. Peter's in there."

 

 

Stiles' mouth dropped open and he swung his gaze to look at the monitors, going over each one before finally stopping, his eyes shooting wide. "Oh my god." He whispered, staring at the sight of a sleeping Peter on the bed. He licked dry lips, his voice breaking a bit. "Scotty man....this just got more complicated."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so instead of adding a new chapter I just added onto this one. I'll most likely do it one more time sometime today and will fully finish the entire chapter. I just wanted the whole process to getting to the secret floor to be one chapter and not split up. Hope you guys don't mind!


	26. Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All hell breaks lose once the pack reaches the 6th floor. And with Derek freaking out about Peter, Scott freaking out about keeping his pack safe, Lydia conflicted with the idea of being used again or helping her friends, and Stiles terrified of losing everyone...it's just an intense chapter lol 
> 
>  
> 
> ALSO JUST A REMINDER I ADDED MORE TO THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER. JUST IN CASE YOU START READING AND ARE CONFUSED HOW THEY GOT WHERE THEY ARE. ENJOY :)

Lydia was no where near as shocked as the the rest of the group that Peter had ended up in a secret supernatural prison. Well, the only thing she may have been surprised about was the fact that said prison was tucked away hidden from the normal world in Eichen House. There was just something so incredibly...cliche and annoying about it. Then again given that Beacon Hills seemed to be nothing but a cesspool of all things evil they'd have to have a facility of some kind one place or another. Beginning to tap her foot on the floor yet again Lydia crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips, looking around at the stairwell she and Scott were presently standing in, waiting to get the A-Okay from Stiles and Derek, which, considering the freak out that was presently happening in the Control Room, wasn't likely to happen any time soon.

 

 

Across from her Scott was pacing, his shoulder's tense and his words clipped as he spoke to Stiles. Lydia had actually tuned them out just a moment ago, the confusion, fast paced words of all there of them at once too much for her to handle. Mainly because it was too annoying. Besides, if she was being honest, she was a little more worried about other things. For instance the fact that since earlier a softly whispered voice had been brushing against her, coming and going at random times. What was even more confusing, Lydia had no idea what the voice was saying. It was like just...feelings playing against her skin. Sensations of a presence even now with her, making itself known. Sometimes even directing her. Warning her. 

 

 

Lydia had at first thought it Meredith, but that thought had quickly changed. Meredith always spoke to her in hushed, almost frantic whispers in her head. This voice was slow. Lazy. And powerful. She wasn't sure how she knew that, but she did. Whatever was speaking to her, even now, was coming from something on the sixth floor. And Lydia intended to find out what. Some part of her desperately longed for it to be another banshee. Someone else like her that she could talk to and learn from. Finally have answers to the thousands of questions running through her head. And Lydia needed answers. So freaking much. She felt incredibly weighed down by the makings of her own mind and if she didn't have some of that weight lifted soon she would go insane.

 

 

Suddenly a firm hand landed on her shoulder, and Lydia was pulled from her thoughts, looking up at Scott with wide eyes. 

 

 

"They're on their way." He muttered absently before moving to glance down the flight of stairs, listening.

 

Lydia frowned, realizing that her bluetooth had gone silent. When had they all stopped talking? "They figured out how to activate the doors?"

 

 

"No. They've decided to just use the special key card the guard had from the Control Room and meet us here instead. We'll all go together. It's a better decision anyways."

 

 

"Can't Derek just upload the guards memories like he did with the last?"

 

 

"Not so soon after. It's incredibly jarring doing that. It takes a lot of energy. He might not be at his best and right now we're gonna need all the man power we have." Scott said, and Lydia couldn't help but notice he seemed on edge.

 

 

"Okay. Well either way it doesn't really matter, does it? We're still getting in. So why do you not look very happy."

 

 

"Why the hell would I be?" Scott bit out softly. "The man that's tried to kill us all  _countless_  times is here."

 

 

"....Sooo..."

 

 

"So I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to freaking murder him!" Scott hissed out, turning to look at her with flashing red eyes.

 

 

"You wouldn't be the only one." Lydia muttered.

 

 

" _Amen to that_." Stiles' voice said in her ear and Lydia noticed he sounded a bit winded, like they were running.

 

 

"They're coming." Scott pulled away from the stairwell to run a shaking hand over his face, and the battling emotions were clearly visible in his eyes. "Don't you see this also complicates things." He growled, just as Lydia heard footsteps echoing from down the stairwell. "Peter knows who we are. If he wanted to he could tell someone about what we're doing."

 

 

"That's not going to happen." Derek was walking up the steps to them, his face a mask of carefully contained rage, and Stiles was close at his back, and looking nowhere near as calm.

 

 

"And why not?" Scott asked bluntly.

 

 

"He can't talk if he's dead." Derek growled out, his eyes glowing blue, and Scott's own flashed red, as if Scott's wolf was acknowledging and agreeing with Derek's. 

 

 

"Okay, believe me, if there's anyone who get's warm and fluffy at the thought of Peter's death, it's me." Stiles drew out, looking between Scott and Derek. "But guys.... _he's l_ _ocked in  a cell that was designed specifically to keep supernatural things in._  What makes you think you're gonna be able to get him  _out_  in order to kill him?"

 

 

"I'll find a way." Derek bit out simply, and Scott nodded in agreement.

 

 

"Okay, again, hate to point out the obvious; but before we go tearing down any holding cells, again... _supernatural_ _prison_  - maybe this is the safest place for him to be?" _  
_  


 

 

"He'll find a way out." Lydia drew out softly, her eyes slightly dazed. "He always does."

 

 

"Yeah, I just don't want it to be because of our dumb-asses!" Stiles didn't need to have supernatural abilities to felt the tension in the air, and he hated that it had gotten there in the first place. "Look guys, regardless, we need to hurry up and get in. There's a particularly large guard that I'm pretty sure is a member of the Swedish Mob who just so happens to be immune to my special dust so there's no telling when he will wake up and blow our covers. I'd like to be out of here before that happens."

 

 

"So the powder doesn't work, then?" Lydia sighed.

 

 

"Yes it works! Just not on certain people apparently."

 

 

"So is it going to work for us in here?"

 

 

"Jesus--okay Lydia I don't know. We're just going to have to find out I guess."  Stiles pushed past her and moved towards the door, taking a hold of it before looking back. "Is it safe out there?" He bit out. He couldn't just stand there arguing any more it was driving him insane. Besides, he was pretty sure the last thing he needed at that moment was to get his blood pressure pumped up. He'd most likely just gain a few more white hairs and they all knew what that meant.

 

 

Derek glowered at him, moving to stand beside him and cocking his head to listen. After a moment he nodded. "There's one guard on the way to the elevator, but we can take him out easy."

 

 

"With the powder." Stiles added. The werewolf ground his teeth and rolled his eyes. "Fine."

 

 

"i'll do the honors." Lydia spoke up, pulling her bottle of powder out and spilling some into her hand. "I haven't gotten to use it yet. It's only fair."

 

 

Derek glared down at her then. "Just keep that stuff away from me. I seem to have a bad memory with you and some purple powder."

 

 

Lydia grinned mockingly at him before Stiles just sighed and without waiting opened the door. He heard Scott and Derek hiss behind him but ignored them, heading slowly out, his eyes looking up and down the halls.

 

 

Scott hooked his hand around Lydia's elbow and pulled her in front of him silently. "We'll go ahead and get him. I'm sure he'd notice four of us before two." And with that they were moving stealthy around the corner and further down the hall.

 

 

Stiles sighed and slowed down his footsteps to an almost leisurely pace, after a moment unable to stop his gaze from sliding sideways to survey a very tense Derek Hale. The wolf looked absolutely furious, but there was something else there in his features, something Stiles was sure the wolf wasn't even aware of because there was no way possible Derek would have ever allowed himself to look weak. And he did. There was an almost desperate, pained undertone to his fury. And while Stiles hated Peter with a passion, he could still understand. Peter was the only family he had in Beacon Hills, and while Stiles was sure that Derek did in fact hate the man, he couldn't help but wonder if he also felt betrayed.

 

 

"Do you think this is where he's been since Mexico?" Stiles asked softly.

 

 

Derek made no sign that he was going to answer, but eventually gave a stiff, silent nod.

 

 

Stiles thought about that a moment, letting it roll over him, because he knew what it meant. Deaton or Argent one had to have known about it. Most likely both of them. And they had never told Derek. No wonder the wolf was so pissed off. Stiles had no idea why they wouldn't tell, but even if they had a valid reason, he doubted Derek would care. Glancing sideways at Derek again, Stiles couldn't help but feel like the wolf had just drawn himself in even more. Fortified those walls that Stiles had thought were slowly but surely weakening. And he didn't know why, but suddenly he found himself furious as well. While Peter was a monster, Derek was still his family, and had deserved to know. Stiles didn't think that Derek would have fought them over the decision. At all. It was just the fact that they had hid it from him that most likely angered Derek so much. Stiles thought about saying something, but honestly he had no idea what, so he didn't even bother. Still....he hoped that Derek knew he was there for him if he needed someone to scream and yell at.

 

 

That thought made him trip over his own feet slightly, Derek glancing down at him with a deep frown. Stiles swallowed hard and looked away. Since when had he started to want to be there for Derek? Well...that wasn't particularly true. He had always wanted to be there. It was just in the past it had been awkward, sometimes forced between them but Stiles had never hesitated to offer help in any way, hating to see anyone in pain; physical or otherwise. But now? Now it just seemed like an unspoken thing. Sure, it was still awkward between them at times, and no matter what Stiles didn't think they would ever stop bickering, but now it just felt like it should be automatic. And that in itself was a little frightening. 

 

 

As they turned a corner Stiles found Scott dragging an unconscious man with a face full of pale powder into an elevator, Lydia annoyingly dusting her hands off, a scowl on her lips.     

 

 

"Feel better now?" Stiles called to her. Clearly she had needed to inflict some type of damage. Freaking she-wolf.

 

 

Lydia narrowed her eyes at him before huffily brushing a lock of hair behind her shoulder and spinning to head into the elevator after Stiles.

 

 

Grinning slightly Stiles followed, and Derek shuffled in behind him as the doors closed on them all.

 

 

Suddenly the tense atmosphere was back. Silence fell over them as they looked from one another, accessing each other, making sure that they were all ready for what was to come.

 

 

"Guys....I just wanted everybody to know, before we do this and just in case we die, that I l--"

 

 

"Shut up Stiles." Derek barked, pushing past him and pulling the special key card he had taken from the guard in the Control Room.

 

 

"Hey! That was about to be a touching moment!" Stiles teased, winking at Scott and Lydia who were rolling their eyes, though both wore a bit of a grin. "Besides, if this were an awesome action movie now would be the moment the protagonist gives the amazing speech to pump everyone up."

 

 

"You're right." Derek gave a brief nod before turning back to look at everyone with a grin that was more teeth than anything. "Don't die." And with that he scanned the keycard and suddenly the elevator gave a jerky shift, and was going down.

 

 

"Worst end battle speech ever." Stiles muttered jokingly, though he had grown tense like the others. Still. Preparing himself for whatever was to come. 

 

 

After what seemed like an endless decent, the elevator finally came to a stop. The pack had already turned to face the opposite wall, knowing the door would slid open from the back, and as the sound of metal sliding filled the thunderous silence, Stiles drew in a deep, calming breath, awaiting.

 

 

A guard stood directly outside of the elevator. He glanced over his shoulder at them, and then his eyes were shooting wide and he was twisting around. Stiles felt Derek and Scott fly past him in a fury of fangs and claws. The man was able to let lose a signally scream just before Derek had his hands around his neck, lifting him from his feet. And then all hell broke loose.

 

 

Heavily armed guards flanked them at all sides. Stiles grabbed onto Lydia's arm and dragged her from the elevator, making a wide path of the fray Derek and Scott were locked in. "Oh god this was a horrible idea. There are too many of them. We're all going to freaking die!"

 

 

Lydia gasped suddenly behind him and Stiles twisted around to see a guard running towards them with furious intention. "Oh, shit. Go, Lydia! Go!" He pushed her away harshly, watching as she stumbled between a wall of prison cells that had screaming, worked up supernatural prisoners in them that Stiles didn't really have time to focus on because the next second he was slammed backwards against one of those cells, his head hitting iron bar hard. Stiles cringed and looked up, awarded immediately with a hard punch to the face. His head jerked sideways from the impact, and he felt blood immediately on his tongue where he had accidentally bit it. Stiles vaguely felt claws reaching around the bars and digging into his sides and hissed with the added torture, before remembering his bracelet. Wasn't the damned thing supposed to protect him? Looking up through slightly blurred vision he saw the guard drawing back his hand for another punch and immediately jerked his own up to protect his face, and when he did so he felt a powerful wave of energy shoot out from his bracelet and a flash of blue light before suddenly the guard was flung from him, and Stiles heard a hiss before the claws at his side also vanished. He stumbled forward with a gasp, staring down in shock at the sight of the guard collapsed against the cell across from him. The guard stirred slightly, his eyes dazed before he looked back up at Stiles and with a growl of anger began to stand again. Before Stiles could even move, though, a strong muscled arm was snaked out from around a bar and wrapping around the guard's neck. Stiles looked up with wide eyes as a tall man with pale hair stared at him, his face contorted in controlled rage as he choked the life out of the guard. Stiles was too shocked to even try and stop it.

 

 

"Stiles!" Scott was slamming into him then, looking him over to make sure he was okay. "Come on, we've got to keep going. Derek's holding them back we don't have much time!" Scott hissed when Stiles didn't make a move and jerked his head to follow his wide gaze and stilled, a rumbling growling rising from his throat and his eyes flashing red.

 

 

Across from them the prisoner finally pulled his arm back, but the guard was already dead, sliding down the bars lifelessly. An answering growl filled his cell, and red eyes glowed in the shadows.

 

 

"Is he a...." Stiles whispered breathlessly.

 

 

Scott nodded through narrowed eyes before suddenly Lydia started screaming somewhere deeper down. "Lydia..." Scott whispered painfully before grabbing a hold of Stiles arm and dragging him down a maze of cells.

 

 

 

"Derek!" Stiles cried, trying to look over his back.

 

 

"He'll be fine!"

 

 

"How will he be fine?!" Stiles cried over the loudness of gun fires and the frantic crazed screams of some of the prisoners. "We've got to go back for him!"

 

 

Just then they stumbled upon a guard who held Lydia down on the ground, leering at her with crazed intentions. Stiles didn't know how it happened but somehow he reached them before Scott. He jerked the guard back by the man's shoulder and slammed his fist into his face. At that time two more guards appeared and Scott hurried to take care of them as Stiles wrapped his arm around Lydia's waist and helped her stand. She was gasping with wide, frightened eyes which darted back and forth. "I got you. I got you. Lydia, you're okay." He tried to calm her, beginning to pull her away from Scott and the two guards, noticing that Scott's movements had began to slow as he grew more tired. If they didn't get out of here soon, they were in big trouble.

 

 

Lydia jerked still suddenly, her eyes widening incredibly large and pulling him to a stop. Stiles frowned down at her. "Lydia? Come on we have to find somewhere safe." He urged, trying to move her again.

 

 

"NO!" She jerked out of his arms, her head jerking left and right as if she were looking for something before a kind of full body shiver took hold of her. And then she was running.

 

 

"Lydia! What are you doing?!" Stiles hissed, chasing after her as she started weaving in and out of cells. "Scott!" 

 

 

"It's this way....this way....." She kept muttering madly.

 

 

"What's this way?!" Stiles yelled as she rounded a corner and vanished. He cursed, hurrying after her, and almost slammed into her back. Stumbling to a halt an inch or so behind her he moved to stand at her side with a deep frown. "Lydia! What are you doing?"

 

 

She didn't speak, didn't even acknowledge him, just stared straight ahead with incredibly wide eyes. Stiles frowned and followed her gaze, sucking in a breath when he found that they were standing in front of a cell that reminded him instantly of the one from the Silence of the Lambs movie that Hannibal had been in. Made of all see through plexiglas. There is someone standing there in the cell, right at the glass. A man with a white bandage wrapped around his head, blood stains on the part over his forehead. And he is just standing there smiling. It's a knowing grin. Predatory. Dangerous, and Stiles somehow knows without a doubt that this is the man they were looking for. And that he knew they were coming.

 

 

The man looks between the two of them, is smile widening. "This is certainly interesting. A banshee and a -"

 

 

"You knew we were coming." Stiles cuts him off, marching forward to stand just outside the glass, glaring across at him. "So you must know why."

 

 

The man takes in a deep inhale before glancing over Stiles shoulder at Lydia, who still looks rooted to the spot in shock. "I know." He draws out slowly, looking back at Stiles. "I also know your friends are still out there. Fighting. Soon to be dying."

 

 

Stiles flinches immediately. "Shut up. That's not true."

 

 

"Oh but it is. Isn't that right, Little Banshee?" 

 

 

Stiles swings around to Lydia, whose mouth is parted and pants coming in and out in sharp breaks, her eyes haunted. He shakes his head jerkily, refusing to believe it. "No no no no. Come on Lydia tell me it's not true."

 

 

Lydia drags her gaze to Stiles and he can see the sheen in her eyes and stumbles back with a gutted cry.

 

 

"It's at the back of her throat now, isn't that right?" The Seer practically purrs moving to pace a few feet away and stop when he is directly in line with Lydia. He leans towards the glass and closes his eyes almost blissfully. "I can hear it building even now."

 

 

"No." Lydia finally chokes out, her first tear falling. "It's not true." She looks at Stiles with burning eyes. 

 

 

The Seer shrugs a toned shoulder absently. "It may not be true yet, but you can still feel it, waiting. It's going to happen sooner or later. Seem's the four of you really didn't plan ahead." He gives a mock frown as if to say 'too bad', before laying his fingers on the glass and dragging their tips as he begins a walk across the rooms length. "You could stop it, you know."

 

 

Lydia's head jerked up then, and she stumbles forward, her hands pressing against the glass. "What?"

 

 

"You. Can. Stop. It." The Seer punctuates each word with maddening slowness, and Stiles wishes he could reach through the see through wall and strangle the man.

 

 

"How?!"

 

 

"Simple. Just use your powers."

 

 

Lydia's face turns from one of desperate hope to frustrated rage, and she smacks the glass angrily a moment, crying out. "I don't know how to!"

 

 

"Well I guess you're just going to have to let me show you." The man turns to look down at her then, his grin gone and his eyes unnervingly serious.

 

 

"What? No, no Lydia come on. You heard what Derek said this guy can trap you in your own head! We need you so that doesn't happen to us!" Stiles pushes her away from the glass, holding her shoulders and shaking her slightly until she looks up at him.

 

 

"But..."

 

 

"They'll die." The man finishes for him.

 

 

"Just shut up!" Stiles yells over his shoulder, turning back to look at Lydia and beginning to speak softly. "Look Lyd's I want to save them just as much as you, okay, believe me I've never wanted anything so freaking much! But we can't do it this way. We've got to to back and help them!"

 

 

"But he's right." Lydia whispered faintly, her body beginning to shake again. "I can feel it....they're going to die if we don't do something."

 

 

"Well then let's go!" Stiles hissed at her.

 

 

"It won't matter. There's nothing we can do. We'll just die with them."

 

"I refuse to believe that!"

 

 

"All you have to do is open yourself up to me." The Seer whispers darkly behind them. "But you better do it soon, because more guards are coming your way too."

 

 

"Lydia please come on we have to go back!" Stiles shook her hard when her eyes began to glaze over, knowing that look and what it meant. "Lydia!" He knew his voice was beginning to break and couldn't help it.

 

 

"It won't even hurt,  _Lydia_. Don't you want answers? I can tell you everything. I can show you how to control your powers! You're so strong Lydia and you have no idea how much. The power and life and death in your hands!"

 

 

"LYDIA!!" Realizing with a choked cry that she wasn't going to budge, Stiles released her and took off running, back towards the sound of guns and fighting. He could hear an animal like cry, and didn't know if it was Derek or Scott and that thought horrified him, urging his feet faster. He had to get to them. Had to make sure they were okay. He couldn't let them die. He couldn't let anyone else die!!

 

 

Suddenly a scream rent the air, pitched so high and it's frequency unlike anything Stiles had ever heard before. He cried out immediately as it bounced around his brain and off of the walls, falling to his knees and clamping his hands over his ears. It felt somehow like more than just a scream, it felt physical,  _real_. Like something slamming into his conscious and ripping at his insides, jarring him completely and leaving him a shaking mess. After what felt like forever but could have only been seconds, the scream stopped, though Stiles could still hear it faintly echoing within his own mind. He slowly emerged from the darkness of his own mind, realizing that he had fallen sideways on the floor. Cringing he struggled to sit, feeling anxiety coiled low in his stomach. Groaning he pulled himself to a stand and looked around him, his breath leaving his lungs in a shock. The cells that had been around him were filled with still, unmoving prisoners. Stiles took a hesitant step towards one of the bars, peering into the shadows and saw a man within. Stiles saw the slow rise and fall of his chest and sighed again. They were alive. What the hell had happened? Had that been Lydia? Did that mean.....

 

 

His throat closed painfully at the through and Stiles was running around a corner, sucking in a shocked gasp when he found himself almost barreling into Scott and Derek. They were supporting each other as they moved slowly, both limping and looking so much worse for wear. Stiles couldn't help the cry of relief that left him as he ran to make sure they were okay. He had planned on give each one a painfully tight hug but froze when he saw bullet wounds in each of them. That weren't healing. He looked up at Derek and the wolf gave a nod, grimacing as he did so. 

 

 

Stiles felt panic bubbling in his belly. "We've got to get bullets. We've got to fix it so you can heal again!"

 

 

"Already ahead of you." Scott said though panted breaths, unclenching a hand and Stiles saw a fist full of large bullets. 

 

 

"Oh thank god." Stiles moved to Derek's other side and immediately pulled the man's arm around his shoulders, helping him so they could head down the hall to find someplace safe.

 

 

"What the hell just happened?" Derek drew out breathlessly.

 

 

"The scream? I think it was Lydia...I thought that you guys were...." He couldn't even say the rest.

 

 

"Is that why all of the guards just passed out?" Scott looked around him, noticing that the cells were quiet as well. "And the prisoners?"

 

 

"The guards are out too?" 

 

 

 

"Yeah. Just fell over unconscious as soon as the scream. I was able to grab some bullets and came to find you guys. I thought when I heard the scream it had meant..." Scott trailed off then, and understanding dawned on all three of them. They had all thought the other dead.

 

 

They turned the corner then and Stiles looked up to see Lydia slouched against a cell, her eyes a bit lost and staring down at the ground. At the glass the Seer was still standing, though quietly, staring down at Lydia as well. "Lydia? Hey! Can you hear me?" Stiles pushed her hair away from her face and pulled her head up, searching her eyes which were slowly coming back to life. She blinked up at him, as if she were just waking.

 

 

"Stiles?"

 

 

"Yeah! Hey." He released a shaky sight and placed his forehead against hers. "I don't know what the hell you did, but it knocked everyone out. And Derek and Scott are okay. Well, kind of. They've been hit by bullets laced with wolfsbane so we've got to get it healed."

 

 

Lydia nodded slightly, looking over the area until she saw the two and gave a slight smile. "Hey guys."

 

 

Scott let out a painful chuckle, gripping his side, and beside him beads of sweat had formed on Derek's forehead, his face paling considerably.

 

 

Stiles stood immediately, rushing over to them. He dug round in his backpack until his fingers closed over a lighter, and then turned to look at Derek and Scott.

 

 

"Him first." Derek gasped out, jerking his head towards Scott.

 

 

"No. He got shot twice. He needs it more." Scott hissed, bending forward slightly in pain. 

 

 

Stiles nodded jerkily and grabbed two bullets from Scott and shoved them into Derek's hand. Without asking Stiles grabbed the him of his black tee and shoved it up until it was just under his neck. He cringed immediately at the gun shot wounds. One was low on his hip, the other on his right shoulder. "Okay big guy I'm gonna need you to hurry up and get those things open." He said, his voice shaking slightly.

 

 

Derek fumbled with the bullet's, and Stiles could see that his claws were out as he tried to control his shift. Finally he had broken one open and Stiles grabbed it, pouring it's substance immediately on the sound on his hip. Derek cried out and squirmed underneath him as he rubbed it in. "I know, I know! i'm sorry I'm so freaking sorry I can't help it." Stiles whimpered, flipping the top of the zippo. "Please don't kill me." He begged before placing the flame against the wound. Derek's raw scream of agony ran through him like knives and he cringed as the wolf's body jerked uncontrollably. At one point he thought Derek was going to grab at him with those claws, but just before contract the wolf growled low and balled his fist hard. So hard Stiles could see blood running between his fingers. When Stiles was sure the wound was properly tended he handed Derek the other bullet. "I know that you don't want to do this again and I'm so sorry but you have to Derek come on. We're almost done."  Derek stared up at the ceiling, his nostrils flared as he sucked in deep inhales before breaking the second bullet. Stiles took it and pushing his shirt further up his right shoulder smeared it in the wound. Derek seemed to have gotten a little more control of himself and only flinched. When Stiles pressed the lighter against the wound again though, Derek couldn't suppress the groan of pain that slipped past his lips as his body convulsed again, wanting to bend in on itself. Stiles didn't know he was crying until he saw fat tears fall and mix in with the wound, and pulling back he ran shaky hands over his face. Derek gave a grunt of relief before sliding further down the cell bars, his eyes shutting on a deep inhale. Scott turned his gaze to Scott then, who was looking very worse for wear with a slightly green hue to his skin. Scott sucked in a deep inhale and nodded as Stiles pushed his shirt up to reveal another shoulder bullet wound. After Scott broke the bullet he set to work all over again, the sound of Scott's screams ringing through his ears, and Stiles desperately hoped there would be no more that night.

 

 

 

 


	27. The Only One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack get's the answers they need, but the night takes a frightening turn, and Derek finds himself shocked to discover that he is the key to saving a friend.

Stiles kneeled over Derek and Scott, staring down at the two wolves, who though had been fixed of their wolfsbane wounds, were still weak and ragged. Stiles himself was visibly shaken, blood covering his coat and on his face where he had wiped his hands at one point. And his hands themselves? They were covered in the sticky red substance, and staring down at them trembling, he was automatically taken back to that dark part of his life not too long ago, his eyes glazing over slightly as the horror of it ran behind his vision. The sound of soft laughter jerked him from that nightmare, and he stood, twisting around and wiping his hands off furiously on his pants. He approached the cell with narrowed eyes, his hands clenching and unclenching so tight that his knuckles bled white. "Tell us. Now."

 

The Seer looked away from him to lazily study his hands, as if they were the most amazing sight in the world. "And why would I do that?"

 

Stiles felt anger pulse through him, threatening to spill out and at that moment all he wanted to do was scream and threaten the bastard, even though he knew there was nothing he could actually do to hurt him. Before it all spilled out though he was somehow able to forcefully rein it back in, knowing that this was a battle that would only be won with smarts. Releasing a breath of frustrated air Stiles moved forward determinedly, leaning forward and looking up into the Seer's face with a snide little grin. "Oh, but that's the thing, isn't it? You want to tell us." When the Seer glanced briefly at him in an unamused fashion before returning to his hands, Stiles felt his grin grow. "Or rather you want to _show_ us." He saw the man's shoulders tense at that, and a part of him clinched in glee and he knew he had decided to go about this the right way.  Behind him Derek and Scott helped one another to their feet, leaning against the bars still, watching them with frowns. Lydia stood and moved to Scott, wrapping her arm around his waist to support him. "That's right...I know all about you,  _Seer_ , and I know that right now, all you can think about is ripping that bandage off of your head and showing us what we want to know."

 

As he spoke the Seer had lifted his gaze again, and his eyes were now filled with a hard darkness. "You know nothing about me." The man drew out softly.

 

 

"Oh, but I know enough." Stiles straightened now that the Seer was looking at him. He stepped forward even more, until he was right in front of the glass, eye to eye with the man. "I know that you being in here means you must not have been a very good little monster. I know that every day that thing on your forehead whispers sweet nothings and begs to be set free. I know that bandage is in place because you  _want_ it there, not because it's ordered." Stiles was so close his face was almost touching the glass now, as he spoke barely above a whisper, his eyes narrowed. "I see you so clearly. You're like a freaking open book and you don't even know it. I can see the control you struggle with every day. Even now with your fingers twitching, all you want to do is rip that bandage off. And then there's the question of why you're wearing it in the first place? We know about the 'special diet' the guards here are on. Even if you wanted to you wouldn't be able to do anything to them. So why do you do it? It couldn't be that you're ashamed. What is there to be ashamed of?" Stiles drew back then, blinking a moment, and then suddenly gave a short, sharp laugh. "Unless...." He drew off, tilting his head to the side and giving a mocking look of sympathy. "You feel weak. I can see it so clearly. You can't control it all, can you? All the voices, all the visions, and so you shut it off. But that's not what scares you the most, is it? It's how powerful you feel with the bandage off. Stronger than you've ever been with it on at least. And I know that's why you'll give us what we want. Because even though you may hate it, and I know somehow that you do; you  _crave it_ , and I think right now the temptations too hard to ignore."

 

 

Strangely enough, by the time Stiles had finished talking, while anger had crossed the man's eyes more than once, now, he just stood watching Stiles with very keen, silent interest, his head cocked and his eyes narrowed as he stared at him. After a long, uncomfortable moment, he smiled slowly, his eyes dark. "I can see why it chose you. I imagine that big ball of energy inside of your chest is like a buffet of sorts.  _Always feeding._ Even now." The Seer let out a sigh and gave a mock frown. "And while that may be drawing out the process, you won't be in control too much longer. You'll be like all the rest of them and start destroying everything you love the most." The Seer flicked his fingers towards the three who were standing behind them. "Like your friends. You're family. They'll all die. And it won't be a good death, you know. It will be brutal and bloody, and you'll love every minute of it." 

 

Stiles felt his heart starting to pound, his gut clenching at the Seer's words.

 

 

"And then, like all the other's, you'll waste away to nothing but a shell, and  _die_."

 

 

Derek jerked forward suddenly, a growl ripping past his throat, his eyes flashing blue and his claws sharp. Scott moved to him, laying a hand on his shoulders, though his own flashing red gaze was narrowed on the Seer.

 

"But your right!" The Seer drew out suddenly, not seeming the least bit concerned by Derek and Scott. "The temptation...is just to great to ignore." He reached up then, and with a cutting grin pulled the bandage from his head.

 

Stiles recoiled when he saw a large gaping hole in the man's forehead. He stumbled back to stand beside Derek and Scott, looking at them with a grimace. Lydia moved to stand beside him, her large eyes starting at the man's wound.

 

"Why is there a hole in his forehead." Her voice wavered a bit.

 

"You see, my dear, I tried to cut it out." The Seer said with a jovial smile down at her. "But fortunately for you, it just burrowed even deeper."

 

"It can still tell us what we need to know?" Derek grunted out, moving forward a step.

 

The Seer turned to focus his attention on Derek then, studying him a long moment before grinning unpleasantly. "Oh it can tell you that and more. It can answer all your questions. And you have many, don't you? Don't worry, you'll - and more importantly  _he_ \- will know soon enough. And let me tell you, that's going to be a  _hoot_."

 

Growling again Derek pulled away from the group and prowled the glass. "No more bullshitting. Just tell us! Now!"

 

"So very impatient." The Seer poked out a lip and rolled his eyes in a very childish gesture. "Then again, I suppose it's only normal.  _The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree_ , does it? Then again I guess I can't really say that, seeing as he's not really you're father." The man laughed then. "Well I suppose he's the closest you've ever had. That's kind of depressing, really."

 

Derek stilled, feeling dread spread low in his belly. "What?"

 

"Oh! I'm talking about Peter. You're uncle. Didn't you know?" 

 

Derek's wide eyes shot from the Seer to look around the cell, his gaze flitting left and right. He had known that Peter was down there somewhere, but had yet to spot him in any of the cells. There didn't seem to be anyone else in--Derek's gaze focused on the bed then, which was facing the far wall. He could see now the bottom half of leg's, from someone lying on it. Sucking in a deep gasp Derek moved forward without thinking, and then automatically froze, gritting his teeth and not allowing himself another step. "What did you do to him?" He bit out.

 

"Such a love hate relationship between you to." The Seer snorted. "You seem to have quite a few of those, actually."

 

"What did you do to him?!" Derek bellowed.

 

"Nothing that he didn't want." The man hissed out, his eyes slightly wild. He drew in a deep ragged breath then, and released it though his mouth on a smooth exhale, almost as if he were calming himself. When he spoke again, his voice was back to it's normal slyness. "So many conflicting emotions within that one. I guess...he was tired? He wanted a break, if you will. So I gave him one."

 

"What does that even mean?" Scott spoke up. He was standing straighter now, not needing to lean on Lydia anywhere as much as he began to heal once again. 

 

"Whatever he wanted it to mean." The Seer replied, as if that made any sense. He turned a lazy gaze back to Derek, looking him over a moment. "I'll show you what you want to know. And not because I can't help myself." He cast a cutting glance over to Stiles before grinning again. "But as a favor."

 

Derek snarled. "Why would you do us any favor?"

 

The Seer looked everyone over. Each and every one of them. "Because you will all need me again later, and I in turn will need you."

 

Derek turned to look back at everyone, sharing their frowns. 

 

"Do we have a deal?"

 

"What deal? You're locked behind freaking plexiglass and I doubt you'll be getting out any time soon." Lydia whispered softly, turning to look at Derek. "Do it. We have to find out what this thing is so we can stop it."

 

The Seer's eyes washed over Lydia a moment, his eyes flashing, before returning his gaze to Derek. "So? What will it be?"

 

Derek licked his lips, looking to Stiles and Scott. After a moment they both nodded, and drawing in a breath he turned back. "What do I do?"

 

"Easy enough. Just....look into my eye."

 

Derek frowned. "You mean the gaping hole in your head?"

 

A dark chuckled slipped past the man's lips. "Come a little closer."

 

Derek hesitated a moment, before finally moving forward, until he was just before the glass. He lifted his gaze higher, and stared at the gaping wound, as he did so feeling a cold chill build slowly up his spine. And then something was taking hold of him. Some unknown force that held his gaze in place, his body still. Derek's mouth parted slightly, his breath leaving his lungs. And then he was down.

 

Stiles cried out as he hit the floor, and rushed forward. He came to his knee's beside Derek, who was way too still. 

 

"What just happened? Is he okay?!" Scott kneeled beside him, Lydia moving to his other hip. 

 

Stiles frantically placed his hand on Derek's pulse, releasing a shaky breath of relief. "He's just unconscious. Lydia is this how you found Deaton?"

 

Lydia nodded and pushed started to push Stiles and Scott aside. Stiles finally moved after a moment, so Lydia could look down at Derek. He stood beside Scott, his heart racing frantically.

 

"Ho-how do you wake him back up? What did you do to Deaton?!"

 

"Just calm down, Stiles!" Lydia hissed at him, holding her hands up before taking a deep breath. "I just...I need  _quiet_."

 

Stiles licked dry lips but nodded, taking a step back. Scott cast him a concerned frown, laying a hand on his shoulder and nodding slightly. "Don't worry man, she's got this."

 

Stiles ran a shaky hand through his hair, wanting to yank at the strands. The entire night had been nothing but chaotic and stressful, and honestly he was close to the edge already. He just needed to be back home, in his own bed and sleeping. Or at least trying to sleep. After what seemed like hours of watching Lydia sit there, holding Derek's hand, her eyes slightly dazed, Stiles almost groaned in relief when the red head made a move. She leaned down slowly, until her lips were close to the wolf's ear, and then began to whisper. Stiles tilted his head with a frown, trying to hear what she was saying, but got nothing. He turned a frown to Scott, who just looked at him and shrugged.

 

"It's really weird for me...like...I don't really hear her speaking actual words as much as....I can't explain it. It's like....a frequency, almost."

 

"Okay. Well that does absolutely nothing for me." 

 

"You know? I'm feeling a little generous tonight."

 

Stiles and Scott looked back up at the Seer with a frown. "Huh?" They both said in unison.

 

"Or maybe I should say I'm feeling a little... _indulgent_." The man sighed, shaking his head. "I tried to warn you, really I did. Well, I guess sometimes you've got to learn the hard way." And then he was looking up, his gaze locked on Stiles.

 

Stiles' frown fell slowly as something took hold of his body, and at that moment all he could do was stare at the hole on the man's forehead.

 

"Stiles?"

 

Stiles was vaguely aware of Scott's voice at his side, but he ignored it as he began to move forward, stepping around Lydia and Derek.

 

"Stiles what are you doing?" Scott frowned as he watched his best friend approach the glass.

 

On the floor Lydia jerked up suddenly with a deep gasp, swaying slightly, while Derek's eyes jerked open and he sucked air, rolling to his side.

 

Stiles didn't hear any of them any more, all his focus on the man in front of him behind the glass. Or rather the bloodied hole in his head.

 

"Stiles!" Scott yelled behind him, finally moving forward. 

 

Lydia blinked blurry eyes and looked up at Stiles in front of her with a confused frown. "What are you doing?"

 

"Stiles don't look!" Scott cried out, a bone deep weary settling over him as he reached out to grab Stiles and jerk him away, right as he touched him, though, Stiles shot ramrod stiff, his eyes going wide a second, before rolling back in his head and then he was falling backwards. Scott cursed and caught him, lowering him to the ground. 'What did you do to him?!" Scott turned red eyes to the Seer, who was breathing heavily, his eyes large with shock.

 

"I--I..."

 

"What did you do?!" Scott roared, the walls shaking.

 

"Stiles!" Lydia crawled over to him, crying out as he began to shake uncontrollably on the ground, his entire body jerking.

 

"I...I didn't know." The Seer whispered, shaking his head.

 

Derek finally came out of his daze enough to see Lydia and Scott crouched down a few feet from him, Scott holding his hands on a thrashing Stiles. He sucked in a strangled gasp and moved to his knee's beside him. "What happened?!" He laid his hands on Stiles shoulders to help and try to still the boy, who was still bulking under their hands, his mouth slightly parted and his eyes wide, rolled back in his head. 

 

"Lydia can you wake him up?!" Scott looked up at the banshee, desperate shinning in his eyes.

 

Lydia whimpered and laid her hands on each side of Stiles' head, clenching her eyes shut. She was silent a moment before crying out. "I can't reach him! It's like he's blocked off somehow!"

 

"Do the ritual.." The Seer suddenly whispered, a slight tremor in his voice. He was pressed up against the glass, staring down at Stiles with wide eyes. "You have to do the ritual!"

 

Derek was up and running at the glass in an instant, a thunderous roar deafening. He attacked the glass, clawing at it with uncontrolled intensity. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

 

The Seer dragged his gaze from Stiles' seizing form and looked up at Derek with wide eyes. "You have to go, now! Everybody will be awake within the next five minutes and you have to be out of here before then or you'll never be able to help him!"

 

"FUCKING FIX HIM NOW!" Derek yelled, slamming at the glass again.

 

"I CAN'T!" The Seer yelled back, rising a fist of his own to hit the glass, his eyes blazing. "If you want want to save him you are going to have to do the ritual and NOW! He doesn't have much time! You can't let it take over him!" He hissed out in a rush, slamming his fist on the glass again.

 

"What ritual?! What is he talking about Derek?!" Scott cried frantically.

 

"Guys we have to get out of here!" Lydia cried out, looking around her. "If everyone's going to wake up we'll never make it out!"

 

Derek released a cry of agony and frustration, swinging away and gathering Stiles' jerking form in his arms, beginning to run back the way they had come.

 

"Derek what fucking ritual?!" Scott yelled behind him, his eyes fully red. "What have you been hiding from us?!" He reached out and jerked Derek around.

 

Derek snapped at him, his fangs out. "If you want to save him then shut the hell up so we can get out of here! We don't have time for this!"

 

Scott growled, his body tensing clearly for a fight, but knowing how dire the situation was he instead sucked in a deep breath and started running towards the elevator. "This isn't over!" He hissed over his shoulder.

 

The three of them reached the elevator and rode it up to the first floor, and by that time Stiles had begun jerking so harshly that it was all Derek could do to keep his arms around him. He shushed the boy the entire time, his heart punching his rib cage in frantic beats, horrified by whatever was happening to Stiles.

 

"I'll call Deaton." Lydia pulled her phone out and dialed the doctor while the elevator doors slowly opened. They all rushed out immediately, at that point none really caring if they were seen, but when the reached the main reception area, and saw that all of the guards were lying on the floor passed out, they paused a moment, blinking in shock and casting a glance back to Lydia, who seemed just as surprised. Had her scream put the  _entire_ hospital to sleep? They didn't have time to find out, though. 

 

Derek had brought his Camero, but instead moved to Stiles jeep considering it was larger and could hold them more easily. "Keys!" He barked out to Scott, who immediately dug the Jeep's key's from Stiles pocket and then unlocked the doors. Derek climbed in the back with Stiles while Scott and Lydia moved up front, Scott behind the wheel. Before all of the doors were even shut he was squeeling tires out of the parking lot where they had kept the cars, speeding down the road. Lydia kept casting frantic looks behind her at Stiles. Derek had laid back in the seat on his side, and had his arms and legs gripped tight around Stiles' still jerking body. "Why is he still doing that?!" He couldn't contain the raw worry from his voice.

 

"I don't know." Scott choked out, looking back in the mirror at them. "Lydia are you sure you can't wake him up?"

 

Lydia turned and moved until half of her body was over the seat. She reached out and grabbed onto bare skin and concentrated a moment, though tears were steadily pouring down her eyes. "I can't! Something's not letting me!"

 

Derek whimpered, the sound so alien to his own ears. And then, suddenly Stiles was still. He blinked down at him, his eyes wide. "Stiles?" The boy did not move. Did not answer at all. "Stiles?!"

 

"Oh god." Lydia choked out, her mouth open in horror.

 

"No no no STILES?!" Derek moved until Stiles was lying under him on the back seat. 

 

"STILES!" Scott yelled from the front, twisting around even through he was driving.

 

Derek's hand shot out and he placed it on his neck, feeling his pulse. For a long moment the three of them were quiet, and just when Derek was about to let lose a howl of soul deep sadness he felt a slight bump against his fingertips. He sucked in an unsteady, hopeful breath. Another little flutter. "He's alive..." He whispered. "He's alive!" But his pulse was weak. Very weak, and so incredibly slow. 

 

Scott scrubbed a hand over his face, tears in his eyes. "What ritual, Derek?" He asked again.

 

Derek released a shaky breath. "Deaton told me there was a ritual we could do to stabilize him. A sort of anchor so he isn't taken over by whatever this thing is doing to people."

 

"And why didn't you tell us?!" Scott was furious once again, and had he not been driving Derek had no doubt that he would have been at his throat. He still might, by the end of the night.

 

"Because it would have fucking  _destroyed_ him to know that it had come that far in the first place! You have no idea what he had been going through, Scott! He was close to giving up completely! If he knew then he would have fucking ended it himself!"

 

Scott did twist around with a snarl this time, coming over the seat and Lydia let out a little scream, reaching over and grabbing the steering wheel as the jeep swerved on the road.

 

Derek felt a hard blow to his face and he jerked sideways with a snarl, his own eyes flashing blue and baring his fangs at Scott, who had his claws dug deep in his neck.

 

"SCOTT!" Lydia scream. The Jeep was surging forward in an increase of speed from where Scott's foot had slammed and pressed on the gas as he had twisted around.

 

"He's my  _best friend_!" Scott snarled, his claws digging in deeper. "What the fuck do you know?!" _  
_

 

Derek did not release Stiles to fight off Scott's attack, just sat there snarling at him with flashing eyes. "Do you know how many times I found him walking the street's in the dead of night! When this  _thing_ was on the loose?! Did you have any idea how fucking alone he felt? Alienated from the rest of you because he thought he was weak! That none of you needed him? And don't fucking tell me that I'm wrong. You forget it's at my damn loft that you all trained at. I  _saw_ how he was always standing there against the walls just watching everyone silently, and while he may have pushed you away at first you were the one's that allowed it! Why the hell didn't you fight more for him? You just let him back himself into a corner!"

 

"SCOTT IF YOU DO NOT TURN AROUND RIGHT NOW!" Lydia was jerking Scott's shoulders as she tried to stay on the road, and after a second Scott jerked away with a growl, grabbing the steering wheel again.

 

Lydia fell back against the seat with a sigh of relief, her hand over her heart. "Are you both trying to get us killed?!" She hissed at them. "I am NEVER going with any of you anywhere again!"

 

Scott sucked in a deep breath as he cut a sharp left at the clinc. He pulled up to the very front and slammed on breaks, quickly pressing on the clutch and putting the jeep in park, jerking the keys out of the ignition. He got out and jerked the seat up, reaching in to grab Stiles but Derek snarled at him.

 

"I have him!" 

 

Scott snarled right back, reaching for him again. Before either of them could start over who was carrying Stiles into the clinc, though, the boy jerked again, one sharp motion, and they all froze, staring down at him.

 

Lydia leaned forward, her eyes wide. "Stiles?" She whispered.

 

Milky white eyes were suddenly looking up at their three faces, before suddenly Stiles was thrashing against Derek, kicking out with his feet and trying to hit with his hands. 

 

"Stiles!" Derek grabbed  onto one of his fist's as it collided with his chin. Stiles' unnatural eyes shot to Derek and his struggle intensified, a raged scream coming up from his throat.

 

"Oh god." Lydia whispered from the front seat. "Is he...has he?"

 

"Scott help me!" Derek bit out, as if he hadn't just been fighting the other wolf. 

 

Scott moved forward immediately, grabbing both of Stiles hands and jerking him towards the opening. Stiles was pulled roughly out, twisting his body and lunging at Scott.

 

With a grunt Scott fell back against the pavement, Stiles landing on him and somehow pulling his hands free, and then they were slamming into Scott's face.

 

Derek jerked him back almost immediately, grunting as an elbow collided with his lip. Stiles was like wildfire in his arms, uncontrollable and frenzied. 

 

Suddenly Deaton was running towards them, and the man had a syringe in his hand. "When did it start?!" He asked.

 

"Just now!" Scott yelled, trying to help Derek hold down Stiles, who was thrashing against them, still screaming angrily.

 

"You can help him, right? You can make him stop?" Lydia stood a few feet away from them, her fist clenched against her chest.

 

"I can make him easier to handle. That's all." Deaton moved forward immediately and slid the syringe into Stiles' neck. The boy screamed in fury, cutting his foggy gaze to Deaton, who pulled back slightly after he had injected him. After a moment of Derek and Scott nearly having to sit on Stiles, the boy's struggles lessened slightly. He was still fighting, but he had nowhere near the amount of strength he had before.

 

"Bring him in." Deaton said hurriedly, standing and heading back to the clinic.

 

Derek glared at Scott, daring him to say something, and after a moment Scott eventually pulled away, though his red eyes were flashing warning.

 

Derek caged Stiles arms beneath his own and threw the boy over his shoulder with a grun. Stiles hissed, kicking and squirming, but Derek ignored him, tightening his hold and rushing after Deaton and the other's.

 

"Lay him here." Deaton said once they were at the back of the clinic.

 

Derek approached a table that had straps at it's top and bottom, and forced Stiles down on top of it, almost losing his grip on the boy as he bulked particularly hard and almost slipped loose. "Scott his feet!"

 

Scott moved forward to start securing his feet down immediately, while Deaton worked on his hands, and by the time they stepped back, Stiles was tied down to the table, twisting against his binds and looking at them all with seething hatred.

 

Derek felt a chill run over him at the sight. It was so unnatural to see Stiles with such an expression. He was supposed to have that damned goofy smile. He was supposed to be telling horrible jokes and being a smart ass. Not layed out before them tied down like this. It was...incredibly difficult to look at, and Derek clenched his jaw tight.

 

"We don't have any other options." Deaton said suddenly.

 

Derek turned to look at him. The Druid was moving quickly around the room, gathering several items and herbs. 'We have to do the ritual now. There's no other way."

 

Scott cut him a glare again before moving towards Deaton. "What ritual? What do we have to do? Will it bring Stiles back?"

 

"Yes." Deaton sat a large, old tomb down on the edge of the table where Stiles thrashed, as well as a ceremonial dagger. "But I can't do it alone. I'll need you, Scott, to complete it."

 

Scott moved forward immediately. "Of course, I'll do whatever it takes!"

 

"You need to understand that this ritual will bind the two of you together, Scott. Forever. There's no way to undo it. Not unless one of you dies, at least." Deaton added an old wooden bowl to the items, and pieces of flint.

 

"Okay, fine! I don't care. Just do it now!"

 

Deaton nodded, and immediately began to pour some dried looking moss into the bowl. He paid no attention to Stiles as he pulled against his restraints, trying to reach him with his hands, his eyes crazed. Deaton opened his book and thumbed through a few pages until stopping on one, and then grabbing the flint struck it over the moss until the stuff was ignited. He blew out the flame after a few seconds until the moss was smoking, and then lifting the bowl held it over Stiles' and closed his eyes, beginning to chant.

 

Derek watched him briefly before flickering his gaze down to Stiles, and choking back an emotion that was far too raw and painful. His body shook from the effort to keep it in. Clenching his fist he watched as Stiles moaned as if in pain one second, and them released a scream of anger the next, jerking against the straps holding him down. His eyes shot between everyone in the room, muttering so quickly and quietly under his breath that even Derek could not understand what he said. His cloudy eyes stopped on Derek then, and he thought he saw them go even more white and for some reason that sight nearly killed him. He couldn't lose Stiles. The thought was so incredibly painful that Derek felt like curling in on himself in agony. He had no idea how or when the boy had come to mean so much to him, but he had, and if he lost him, Derek had no idea what he would do. He would be completely alone then, and that thought terrified him as well. Suddenly a sharp pain built in his chest, and Derek groaned, bending slightly and grasping at the spot. The pain turned into a sort of sharp tug then, and Derek hissed, sucking in a breath of air to try and breath past it.

 

"Derek?" Scott called his name suddenly, and though they had literally been at each other's throats moments ago there was still concern in his voice.

 

"I'm fine." Derek chocked out, straightening slowly with a wince. "I just have this weird feeling in my chest." He could feel a bead of sweat forming on his brow and wiped it off with an unsteady hand. Blinking through the pain he looked up to see Scott and Lydia watching him with a frown. He noticed Deaton's gaze, then, and automatically stilled. The Druid was watching him with those too wise eyes that Derek hated because it felt like sometimes the man's gaze looked right through you.

 

"Scott I'm sorry but you won't be able to help me with the ritual."

 

Scott jerked his gaze to Deaton. "What? Why not?!"

 

Deaton stared at Derek still, and the wolf felt his heart flutter in nervousness. "The spell anchor's Stiles with the person he has the closest connection with at the moment, and unfortunately it appear's to be someone else."

 

Scott shook his head in confusion. "If it's not me then who is it?!" 

 

Derek stumbled backwards a few steps, his wide eyes beginning to dart around frantically.

 

"Derek it's the only way." Deaton said softly across from him.

 

Scott looked between the two a moment before drawing back in shock. "What?! Derek is who Stiles feels closest to right now?!"

 

Lydia rolled her eyes at Scott. "Is it really that hard to believe? I thought that was obvious." She muttered.

 

Derek held up his hand, shaking his head. "Shut up, no. Just...stop talking! It can't be me."

 

"The spell doesn't lie, Derek." Deaton looked down at Stiles a moment. "It's connected directly to his heart. That weird feeling you just had in your chest? That was just a confirmation, the first step in strengthening the link between him and the person closest to him at the moment. Derek there's no question about it. In order for this ritual to work...in order to save Stiles...it will have to be you."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	28. Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lmao dudes i accidentally saved this as a draft..., sorry lol

"Derek if you want to save Stiles we have to do this now!" Deaton said heatedly, one of the few times that any of the pack had every seen the Druid show traces of true emotion on his always carefully blank face.

 

Derek cringed, moving his gaze from everyone in the room, it always coming back to land on Stiles, who was still jerking against his restraints angirly. He was vaguely aware of Deaton's mouth moving as he spoke more, but he heard nothing. suddenly Scott was in front of him, his red eyes blaring. Derek felt a sharp and sudden sting on his cheek, but was otherwise too out of it to care about Scott hitting him. He didn't feel the boy's grip in his shirt was jarring him, Derek's head bobbing back and forth as he stared at Scott's fastly moving mouth a bit dumbfoundedly.

 

 

The wolf inside of him was whining desperately, it's claws digging in and trying to climb up and out, to pull Derek out of his frozen stupor and set him into some sort of motion. It didn't make any sense. It couldn't be true. How could it? He and Stiles spent more time screaming at each other than actually talking. Strangely enough Derek had no trouble acknowledging that Stiles may have been the most important person in his life right then, but that _he_ was the same for Stiles? Something inside of Derek just refused to believe it. It was too laughable. Why the hell would he be so important to  _anyone_? Derek was a fucking  _mess_. No part of his life hadn't ended in disaster. He was nothing but a constant reminder of past mistakes and failed attempts.  _No one_  should want him. He was a walking talking  _stain_.  He hated everything that he was. How the hell was he supposed to be an anchor for Stiles when these days he was hardly in control of his own self? When so often he just thought of up and leaving Beacon Hills altogether. Hell he had actually done it right after Mexico. But for some reason only a week after leaving he had found himself back in his damned loft. No idea why he had returned and so fucking angry. Scott and his pack had started coming over regularly then, needing somewhere they could train, and the more often everyone had come over the more he felt himself tied to the damn town though he had no idea why. It wasn't like he was part of Scott's pack. Not really. And that had nothing to do with the fact that he and Scott had occasional 'hiccups' in their...whatever it was they had. Derek could deal with that, it was normal for passion and more importantly fist's to fly when you were around other wolf's. He just could not bow down to another Alpha. Maybe it was a pride thing, maybe he just wasn't ready to give in and face that his pack really was gone, but he would never submit to Scott. Though sometimes he honestly wished he could.

 

Derek was finally pulled out of his thoughts when Scott punched him again, this time hard enough to break his nose. He blinked in a daze, his nose pounding in pain even though it was already healing. He was aware of Lydia pushing Scott away suddenly, yelling at him, and then the banshee's hands were on his face, pulling his head down until he was staring into her large vividly green eyes. 

 

".....to come back, Derek...." He vaguely heard her voice, going in and out. "....he's going to be gone.....understand?!" 

 

Derek blinked down at her, shaking his head slightly as he felt his nose snap back into place. 

 

"...have to snap out of it Derek! We can't lose him! Derek, Please!"

 

After a sluggish moment he grasped Lydia's wrist's softly and pulled her hands away, and the red head gave a sigh of relief, before her eyes were burning with intensity again.

 

"Derek you have to get your head out of your ass and do this now! For Stiles!"

 

"Forever..." Derek said softly, almost too low to be heard. He looked back up at Deaton. "You said the ritual is permanent."

 

The Druid gave a grave nod. "Yes. You will always be linked to Stiles. You'll share a connection with him that will make the two of you closer than before. I can't tell you exactly how it will be, the ritual react's differently for everyone. But it will provide a physical, stable anchor that he needs to hold onto his humanity."

 

"You will fucking do it!" Scott hissed out, moving towards him again, but Lydia managed to lay a hand on his chest and halt his steps before he could reach Derek. "I don't care if it's permanent, I'll make you do it if I have to!"

 

Derek finally gave in to his frustration and anger, his eyes glowing blue and his claws curling as he snarled at Scott. "I don't care about that! I'd do it no matter what! As long as it mean's he's okay. But  _Stiles_??? He's going to fucking _hate us_!"

 

"He'll understand, Derek." Lydia said softly, moving away from Scott to stand before him again. Derek noticed how her hands were shaking as she took hold of his arms, and her face was strained, scared. " _Please_. We've already....this is the second time we've almost lost him. We can't go through this again. Even if he does hate us, at least he'll be alive."

 

Derek had to shut his eyes when he saw tears began to fall down her cheeks, because he was already so close to the edge and if he didn't reign in his own emotions he would break down right then and there."What do I need to do?"

 

"I need you to be lying beside him, the two of you touching. Scott help me with this table." Deaton and Scott cleared off a table and carried it to sit beside Stiles, who started screaming furiously when he found that the Druid and Scott were just out of reach of his hands. Scott paused beside him, his eyes wide and his body shaking at the sight. Deaton laid a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back slightly. "Don't worry. It will be okay. Derek..."

 

Derek nodded jerkily and moved forward, climbing up on the table, staring down at Stiles with a pained filled gaze.

 

"I need you to take your shirt off." Deaton said beside him, as he busied himself mixing some concoction together. "Scott would you unbutton Stiles's coat as well?"

 

Derek pulled his shirt over his head with slightly shaking hands, hearing Scott's soft inhale beside him. He turned to see Scott staring down at Stiles' tattoo with wide eyes. Lydia moved to stand beside him and looked down at it, the two seemingly for the first time ignoring Stiles as he strained to reach them. 

 

 

"When did...." Scott glanced up at Derek almost as if to ask if he knew.

 

 

 

Derek just lowered his eyes guiltily and turned to face Deaton."What do I need to do?" 

 

 

"First we have to try and calm Stiles more. I'll never be able to do this unless he's still. His rage is supernatural, so we'll need something equal to that." 

 

 

"What about this?" Lydia pulled her bottle of the powder Stiles had mixed from her pocket, handing it to Deaton. 

 

 

Deaton looked down at it with an arched brow. "Where did you get this?"

 

 

"Stiles made it." She said carefully, not wanting to give away the events that had taken place that night.

 

 

Deaton looked between the three of them before sighing. "I suppose you're not going to tell me why you even have this. But it may work." He moved to stand near Stiles, taking some of the powder in his hand and then blowing it in the boy's face. Stiles jerked instantly, coughing and holding his face away. He continued to struggle madly a moment, before his limbs grew more slack, and then fell to his side. His eyes remained open though, his head turning slightly as he groaned. "It seems while it doesn't knock him out completely, it's done the job none the less." Deaton handed the bottle back to Lydia, who returned it to her pocket.

 

 

Now that Stiles was calmed, sedated almost, the pack stared at him, their eyes awash in worry and regret. Stiles laid there twitching slightly, every few seconds turning his head left and right, and straining slightly against his binds. His face contorted in pain, and it killed Derek that he may be hurting deep inside underneath everything.

 

 

"You need to drink this." Deaton spoke, and Derek turned to see the man holding a wooden bowl above him.

 

 

He sat up, eyeing it warily. "What is it?"

 

 

"Something that will make you more sustainable to strengthening the connection between the two of you." 

 

 

Derek glared at Deaton and his non-answers, and jerking the bowl took a few large gulps, almost choking as he did so. The liquid went down in a lava like intensity, and he felt like his insides were scorched.

 

 

The Druid nodded and took the bowl away, then moved to Stiles. "I'm going to need you to hold his head up, Scott." Scott moved to do so, sliding his hand under Stiles' head and pulling it up. "Hold his mouth open." After a moment of almost losing his finger, Scott set about it a bit more gingerly, pulling Stiles' chin down while Deaton very carefully poured some of the mixture down his throat. Scott clamped his mouth shut immediately while Stiles jerked weakly under him, before finally he swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing slightly. When Derek heard his slight whimper of pain he knew that the potion had went down just as harsh and for a moment really wanted to growl at Deaton for making the boy drink it. Deaton picked up another bowl of some mushed up herbs then and began rubbing a bit on Derek's chest, right above his heart. As he did he whispered foreign words under his breath, and though Derek had no idea what language he spoke in, they still affected him in some strange way as a slight tingle began at the base of his skull, his fingertips and toes, and other area's of his body that he wasn't really comfortable talking about. Deaton finished and then moved to do the same to Stiles, hovering over him a moment. "Now...this next part may be difficult."

 

 

Derek's eyes shot wide when the Druid picked up the large ceremonial dagger.

 

 

"What are you doing?" Scott gasped out, moving towards Stiles immediately.

 

 

"In order to create the connection, I have to draw on the energy from something first. Call it into being. There are marks,  _glyphs_ , that hold power and the two of you will both share the same one. It will be physical evidence of the link created between you."

 

 

"So you're just going to start cutting away at my best friend?!" Scott protested again.

 

 

"Scott, if there was any way around it i would take it. But this is just the way it has to be done." Deaton stared at Scott a long moment, his gaze not wavering. Finally Scott dropped his shoulders and moved backwards a bit. Derek could understand his concern completely. He didn't really care if Deaton went hacking away at him, he was a werewolf after all, he could heal. But Stiles? Stiles was human. He would feel that pain on a whole different level, and it would last considerably longer.

 

 

Deaton was standing over him then, staring down at him with those carefully withdrawn eyes. "Are you ready?" 

 

 

Derek nodded after a moment, and then the blade was cutting into his skin and  _but damn did it hurt_. He released a groan of pain, trying to make himself stay still as Deaton carved into the skin right above his heart. It seemed somehow more painful than it should have been, and Derek wasn't sure if that was because of the herbs he had rubbed onto his chest, or just because his entire body felt so completely raw and exposed. It felt like Deaton worked on him for hours, and when he finally pulled away Derek was sweating and breathing rapidly, and Scott and Lydia looked very pale and close to either passing out or vomiting. Cringing Derek lifted his head from the table to see a glyph with two swirling circular designs connected by a line which had a intricate diamond shaped symbol in the middle. It was strange and unlike anything he had ever seen before. And very complex, which would explain why it took Deaton so long to carve it into his skin. As Derek laid there staring at it, and the seconds ticked by, he realized something with surprise. "It's not healing."

 

Deaton nodded his head vaguely, moving to stand over Stiles. The man lifted the blade, and Derek couldn't contain the growl that erupted from his throat at the first touch of the blade against the boys skin. Stiles gave a pained cry, trying to pull away from Deaton, but the Druid laid a firm hand on his chest and continued his work, his brows drawn in concentration. "The mixture on your chest has a form of wolfsbane in it, along with other things. The wound will heal, but a scar will always remain."

 

Derek barely heard his words, and honestly at that moment he really didn't care, because Stiles was crying out in obvious pain, sweat beading his brow. Unable to stand the sight, Derek managed to grab a hold of one of his hands and clasped it tightly.

 

 

"I would not try to relieve his pain!" Deaton bit out suddenly, blade pausing in it's onslaught as he stared down at Derek. "We have no idea if whatever's happened to him will affect you some way."

 

 

Derek nodded after a moment. What Deaton didn't know was that Derek knew exactly what was going on with him. He knew what the creature was that was killing people and turning other's into crazed killing machines. The moment he had stared into the gaping hole on the Seer's head, and an eye had stared back, it had all hit him at once. Knowledge. Coming so fast and hard that it had knocked him on his ass. Even now his mind swam from it, and he wanted to tell Scott and Lydia everything that he had seen, but he knew that he couldn't, not in front of Deaton. He didn't trust the man, and while trust was something Derek had never really given easily, Deaton just seemed to rub against him in a particularly bad way that had him more often than not on edge around the man.  So as far as all the information he had gained from the Seer? He'd be going over that with everyone after they were far away from the Druid.

 

Finally Deaton had finished carving  the same glyph into Stile's chest, right above his heart as well, and the stepped back to examine his handy work, like a damned artist admiring a new painting. "How are you feeling, Mr. Hale?"

 

 

Derek glared up at him. He was sweating bullet's and the tingling in his body had spread to his arms and legs and was traveling down his throat, almost as if it were trying to reach the center of his chest. "Just finish it." He gasped out, because he knew as uncomfortable he was, Stiles was even more so. 

 

 

Deaton nodded and grabbed the large tomb from the table. "Scott, Lydia, I'm going to need the two of you to step back. The ritual uses high concentrated magick and I don't know how any residue left over may effect the two of you."

 

 

Scott's brows shot up and he and immediately scampered away, standing close to the wall across the room. Derek glared at them a bit and and their immediate retreat before turning to look back at Stiles. He was moaning now, still straining against his binds but this time it looked like he was just in pain. "Is he okay? Is it supposed to be hurting him?!"

 

 

"Does it hurt you?" Deaton asked simply. When Derek gritted his teeth the man nodded. "Stiles is human. He doesn't have the control or tolerance that you do. This will not be an easy process for him. And even afterwards I expect that the two of you will have a sort of supernatural whiplash if you will."

 

 

Oh yeah. As if they didn't already have their hands full. "Whatever it is, we'll deal with it," -the fact that he had said  _we'll_ was not lost on him, apparently not Deaton either, from the way a slight grin caught his lips-. "Just hurry up and get it over with."

 

 

Deaton nodded, face seriously blank once again, and then he began to read from the tomb. On the very first word Derek felt something clenched hard inside of him, almost as if a hand had grabbed a hold of the inside of his chest and squeezed. He couldn't help the slightly choked inhale, and heard the same from Stiles beside him. That tingling sensation intensified with every strange, hypnotic word that Deaton spoke, until it felt like if Derek were to glance down, he could see a wave of chills all moving to gather to the center of his chest, where the strange sensation came to rest. As Deaton's voice grew louder, his tone sharper, heavier, the tingling shifted to a strong vibration and Derek couldn't help but shift uncomfortably under it's weight. A strange electricity had settled in the air around them. A certain heaviness that he could feel sinking into his skin, and further still through muscle and bone. It wasn't exactly painful, as much as stifling, and after a moment, Derek was panting. He turned to look at Stiles, and found him much the same. The boy's head turned to him then, his cheek resting on the cold steel table, and Derek felt his breath catch when he saw that the white fog over his eyes seemed to shift slightly, and that gorgeous, intoxicating deep amber began to show though. If there had been in doubt in Derek's mind about going through with the Ritual, that sight right there made him suddenly so sure. There was nothing he wouldn't do for Stiles. No price he wouldn't pay. Suddenly all he could think about, was all those years ago, when he had first met Stiles. The boy had nearly drove him insane. There was just something about him, his damned horrible humor, that  _ridicilous_ buzz cut he had sported back in the day....the way that he would stand up to Derek, even though during their arguments Derek could smell his fear so clearly. Thinking about it - that was most likely what had first made him truly start to appreciate Stiles. No matter if he was scared (usually terrified), he would never back down. Never give in. Derek had respected that quality in him, secretly longing to have it himself.  And then as the days, months, and years had went by, and they had found themselves saving one another countless times, somehow  _always_ ending up together, much to everyone elses amusement (sometimes Derek thought the pack had done it just to watch them bicker), Derek had formed a sort of friendship with the boy. A friendship that he really had never acknowledged. And then that night a few weeks ago in Mexico, when the Bazeerker's had attacked him and he was sitting there, bleeding out and trying to cope with the fact that he was most likely going to die - the thing that had bothered him the most was the sight of Stiles' retreating form, heading into the temple to find Scott. They had shared something right before that....Derek had seen how torn Stiles had been, not wanting to leave, his tortured eyes glued on him. In that moment, Derek had wanted to beg him to stay. To sit by his side and put his hand on his shoulder like Stiles so often did whenever Derek needed to feel grounded again, to feel like everything would be okay. But he had buckled at that thought, feeling greedy, and maybe a little unsure if Stiles would have stayed with him in the first place. So he had told him to go for Scott, even though the entire time he had watched him go, it took everything he had not to scream and call him back. 

 

 

Braedon had seen the emotion that flashed across his eyes. And after that night, things just hadn't been the same between them. They had grown distant, and many times Derek would find her just silently watching him, as if she were trying to figure something out. And then, one night, she did. All he had gotten was a note with a simple -Thanks-. She had left almost as sudden as she had appeared. He wasn't going to lie. It hadn't really made him feel sad, or hurt. From the very beginning they had understood one another. The need to reach out and touch someone if only to bring comfort. And Derek supposed that if there was anything he did miss, it was that. 

 

 

Suddenly slight pressure on his hand jerked Derek from his thoughts, and he blinked in shock when he found Stiles eyes were cleared almost completely of their white haze, and intelligence was shinning through again. He watched the boy's lips part on a silent inhale. "..De....rick?"

 

 

The surge of happy relief was almost immediately overpowered by a sudden, agonizing pain deep in his chest. Derek's brain immedietly stopped working and his back bowed up harshly, Stiles doing the same, and they both released gut deep screams of pain. The glyph's on their chest's glowed faintly red, growing more and more bright by the second while Deaton screamed out the incantation over them. Across the room Scott immediately moved forward, but Lydia grabbed onto him and held on tight, shaking her head quickly. "We have to help them!" He yelled.

 

 

"We can't interfere with the spell!" Lydia choked, his fist's tight in his shirt, even though her own body was tense from the need to rush forward and offer his friends some type of help.

 

 

Scott bit his claws so hard into his palms that he could feel blood run. The smell of agony was so thick in the room that it was almost choking him, and the traces of heady magic made his hair stand on end. He watched Derek and Stiles flailing on the tables in obvious pain, and could take no more. Growling he pulled away from Lydia and rushed forward. He felt the thickness of the magic in the air and cringed, but pushed past it. Just as he reached the tables, though, suddenly everything was quiet.

 

Derek and Stiles stopped screaming, both collapsing back onto the table, their eyes fluttering downwards and their heads falling to the side as they passed out. Scott reached for Stiles immediately, running his hands over him, trying to reassure himself he was okay. "Deaton?"

 

 

Deaton swayed slightly, sitting the book back on the table and leaning with his hands on it. The Druid looked up between deep inhales, trying to catch his breath. He gave a slight nod to Scott. "It's done."

 

 

"Are they going to be okay?!" Scott hissed out as Lydia came to stand beside him, brushing Stiles' sweaty hair from his brow. 

 

 

"They will be fine. They just need time to rest. We all do."

 

 

"And Stiles...is he?"

 

Deaton shook his head, gathering the items he had used for the ritual and placing them aside. "The ritual successfully anchored his humanity. He now shares a connection with Derek. A life line if you will." Deaton grabbed a pile of blankets under a cabinet and handed them to Lydia, who immedietly began to cover Stiles and Derek. "Now, I must rest as well. I'm not exactly sure how long they will be out, but don't bother them. They will wake up on their own. As for you two, you are free to rest here as well, as long as you lock up before you leave, Scott."

 

 

Scott frowned at him, stepping around the table. "You're leaving?"

 

Deaton sighed. "That ritual used quite a lot of my energy. I'm afraid I'll most likely be out of commission for a while."

 

 

 

"But what about Stiles and Derek?"

 

 

"What about them?"

 

 

"Well...won't they want to know things?"

 

 

Deaton glanced over at Derek. "Derek knows the details of the ritual. Plus, as I said, no two cases will be the same. Exactly what their link will entail, they will just have to discover themselves. Now if you will excuse me."

 

 

Scott watched Deaton leave with his jaw opened wide. "Seriously?!"

 

 

"Scott, help me with these." Lydia spoke softly behind him.

 

 

Scott turned to see her unbinding Stiles hands, and he rushed forward to free his legs as well. "Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean what if he comes to and..."

 

 

"Deaton said that the ritual worked." Lydia replied with a shrug, staring down at Stiles again, brushing his hair back fondly. "I'm just glad he's okay."

 

 

Scott nodded, choking up a bit as he stared down at his best friend. All he wanted to do was grab him and squeeze him until he was fussing and fuming and cursing his werewolf strength. God he missed that. He hadn't had enough of it these past few weeks. He had to make sure he did it a few times when he woke up.

 

 

"Come on, Scott." Lydia wrapped her arm around Scott's and lead him to some chairs nearbye. She pulled them close beside one another and after they had sat, wrapped a blanket around them both. Wiggling until she was comfortable Lydia laid her head on Scott's shoulder, her sleepy eyes on Derek and Stiles. "They're going to be okay, right?"

 

 

Scott sighed, resting his cheek on top of Lydia's head. "I don't know. I hope so."

 

The two of them were quiet a moment before Lydia spoke again. 'You know, it kind of makes sense. The two of them being linked, I mean. If you think about it, they are a lot alike."

 

"Derek and Stiles? How?" Scott couldn't quite hold back the snort.

 

 

"They both have moments where they grow distant. Like they don't feel needed anymore. And while you and Scott have been friends since you were kids, he still has problems letting new people close to him. Don't get me wrong. Stiles is pretty much friendly to everyone. But as for _really_ letting some one close? He has issues with it. Like Derek." Lydia chuckled then. "Not to mention they are both so incredibly stubborn."

 

 

Scott smiled, nodding his head. But the longer he stared at their sleeping forms, the more his worry grew. "But is that healthy? I mean how can two people who share equal bad things be good for each other? I'm just so scared that this isn't going to work."

 

 

"They share more than bad things, Scott. They are both incredibly brave and courageous. And will stand up for their friends no matter what. Even still..." Lydia patted Scott's arm under the blanket, a soft smile on her face. "Two negatives make a positive."

 

 

 

 

***************************************

 

 

 

  
_Stiles was floating in a sea of black fog. It tangled around his body, shifting and sliding like shadows. It was a cold...empty blackness. One with no beginning and no end. One that felt no anger or sense of vengeance. It just...was_. Nothing.  _That nothingness was slowly creeping past the barrier of his skin, sinking in like a lovers caress and tempting him with it's simplicity. He had felt far too many chaotic emotions lately. Pain. Fear. Guilt. Anger. Desperation. And something else, something that was even now buried deep within him, locked safely away, from the entire world, as well as himself. It was nestled somewhere deep within his chest, tucked away behind his heart for safe keeping. And for hiding. He was hiding it from himself. He knew that. Had known it for a while, and while Stiles wasn't exactly sure still just what was inside of that heavily locked box, he knew that it frightened him. So he kept it secured there, not really able to throw it out because while he was scared of it, he knew that he_ needed _it somehow. It was pure...raw.....perhaps the most true part of himself, and he could not let something so beautiful be destroyed._  


 

  
_The darkness, though, it wanted to invade every last inch of his body. To spill within every corner and groove. To corrupt. To make new into something cold like it was. That_ thing _tucked away behind Stiles' heart  could not be hidden from the darkness. The darkness saw all. It greedily crawled towards it's target, and Stiles could hear the whispers of glee as it grew closer and closer. If the darkness could just touch this one thing, could change it to become cold as well, then Stiles and the darkness would be one and the same. And while Stiles may have been alright giving up things like pain, fear, and guilt, he could not lose that most secret part of him._  


 

_So for the first time he fought the darkness. Clenching his hands into tight fist's he willed it away from him. The secret within him began to glow then. To shine brighter than any light ever before. The darkness retreated in it's wake, and with each inch of his body the light spilled across, warmth followed in it's wake, until Stiles was awash in brilliant, blinding heat. Just when he thought he was going to burst from it, something tugged hard on his heart, and opening his eyes he saw a shimmering, golden thread bursting from his chest, pulling him upwards and out of the dark sea._

 

 

 

 

 

Stiles opened his eyes. For a moment he stared up at the high white ceiling above him, blinking slowly, trying to place where he was. The right side of his body felt incredibly warm, and something inside of him seemed to be vibrating almost.  _Alive._  Which made no sense because of course he was alive. Frowning Stiles licked slightly dry lips and turned his head, drawing in a soft inhale when he found himself staring into vivid green eyes. For a moment he forgot how to breathe as something washed over him. Something warm and powerful. Something tugged at his chest then, but when he placed his left hand on it, there was nothing there. 

 

 

"Stiles?" Derek drew out softly beside him, his eyes looking him over hungerly, as if he needed to be sure that Stiles was really there beside him.

 

 

Stiles licked his lips again and swallowed, noticing how Derek's eyes followed the motion, and felt another surge of warmth burst within his chest. Suddenly he felt like he was not close enough. Like he needed to be touching Derek as much as possible. Like he didn't want a single breath of air between their bodies. The thought confused him, but before he knew it he was already scooting closer, shutting his eyes with a sigh when he felt his forehead rest against Derek's. He heard Derek released a sound he had never before heard, a low rumbling purr almost, and couldn't help but smile slightly. He liked the sound. It was so much better than the angry growls the man so often let lose. Stiles felt Derek pulling back slightly then, and almost whimpered from the loss. He opened his eyes to find out why, and his heart skipped a beat.

 

 

The look in Derek's eyes was raw. Stiles could make out several emotions within their depths. Relief. Pain. Lust. It was a shocking combination and one that Stiles felt helplessly drawn to. His lips parted slightly and he tilted his head up more even as Derek's was tilting down. Stiles moved to pull his hand from his chest to touch Derek, he needed to feel hot skin underneath his fingers. But suddenly his palm slid over something sticky and sore and Stiles jerked back with a hiss. Pulling his hand up he saw blood and frowned up at the redness. Leaning up on his elbows he found that he was lying on a table with a blanket over part of his chest. He made out something vividly red and pulled the blanket aside, choking back a gasp when he saw something cut into his chest, dried blood covering him. Suddenly everything came rushing back. Eichen House. The Seer. He jerked to a sit with wide eyes, groaning almost immediately when his head began to pound and his body protested.

 

 

"Stiles, are you okay?" 

 

 

Stiles jerked his gaze to Derek as he sat up beside him, the blanket falling from his chest to reveal a similar wound.

 

 

 

"What happened?!" Stiles choked out looking around him and trying to get his barings. He recognized the room to be within Deaton's clinc. How had they gotten there? He couldn't remember anything past kneeling beside Derek's unconscious body. Stiles jerked his gaze back to Derek, looking him over. The wolf seemed to be fine. Actually, he looked more worried about Stiles. Which made no sense.

 

 

Stiles heard a loud snore suddenly and jerked his gaze up to see Scott and Lydia asleep huddled up together across the room. "Scott?" He blurted out, his heart beginning to pound in confusion.

 

 

Scott jerked awake immediately, jarring Lydia awake as well. The two of them blinked through their sleepy stupor a moment before realizing that Stiles was awake. Scott was the first to reach him. His hands were on his cheeks, pulling him close as the Alpha turned his head this way and that. Stiles hissed and smacked his hands away.

 

 

"Ah dude come on...I have a pounding head ache." He muttered, rubbing his temples. 

 

 

Scott opened his mouth to say something but suddenly Lydia was flying into his arms. Stiles yelped in surprise, falling back against Derek whose hands wrapped around him to steady him, and Stiles felt warmth immediately shoot spread through him from the contact. He tried to pull away but with Lydia basically laying on him he had nowhere else to go. 

 

"What the hell is going on?!" He shrieked.

 

 

Lydia pulled away finally, tears in her eyes. "We thought that....I'm so freaking glad."

 

 

Stiles frowned, shaking his head at her. "What are you talking about? Are you all insane? How did we get to Deatons."

 

 

"It was the Seer." Derek's voice rumbled right into his ear and Stiles realized he had still been leaning back against him and quickly pulled away, his face growing red. "The Seer did something to you. You looked into his eye and then suddenly you were jerking and shaking on the ground." The wolf's words were choked, as if he were reliving a painful moment.

 

 

"What?  I don't remember any of that. But what I'm so concerned about, is what the hell is this thing carved into my chest!" Stiles drew out, staring down in horror at himself. "Why does it look like I just got offered up as some ritual sacrifice or something?"

 

 

Scott and Lydia got a major case of shifty eyes. Stiles ignored them, turning to stare with narrowed eyes at Derek. "And why do you have the same mark!" He accused, pointing at the wolf's chest.

 

 

Derek cast a glance back to Scott and Lydia, as if asking for a little help. Scott gave a cringe and shrugged, as if to say 'you tell him'. Lydia was ignoring him entirely.

 

 

Derek groaned and ran his hand over his face before looking at Stiles, whose eyes had were doing a slow inspection of not only the wound, but his bared torso entirely. Derek couldn't help the rumbled growl low in his throat and Stiles' eyes immediately shot up, wide and horror filled. He gulped hard and jerked gaze away, confusion playing across his own face. He seemed to realize then that he was just as bared and hurriedly jerked his coat to hold it together. Derek did not miss the slight trembling of his hands.

 

 

"The Seer did something to you. When you woke up you weren't the same. You had...changed..."

 

 

Stiles' eyes shot back to his then, wide. "What do you mean, changed?"

 

 

"Like the other's." Scott said softly.

 

 

Stiles felt the blood drain from his face as horror washed over him. "What? How....I mean.....I don't understand. Why am I not..."

 

 

"Deaton found a way to anchor you to your humanity. He did a ritual." Lydia's gaze flickered to Derek.

 

 

Stiles followed her gaze, staring at Derek warily. "What kind of ritual?"

 

 

"It was a ritual that would create a connection between you and the person you're closest with. A link that will bind you together and strengthen your hold. An anchor basically." Derek drew out carefully, not quite looking Stiles in the eyes.

 

 

Stiles swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing. "And....Deaton did the ritual?"

 

 

Derek nodded silently.

 

 

"And...the person I'm..." Stiles drew off, not able to finish. He stared down at the mark on Derek's chest, and then at his own. Releasing a shaky breath he nodded his head wobbily. "Well yeah. I mean I guess that makes sense, right? We've been doing a lot of things together lately. Had a few come to jesus talks. So yeah that's totally normal. Not....weird.....at all...." Stiles suddenly needed to be standing. He turned away and moved to stand, making Scott and Lyida stumble away slightly. He pulled his coat tighter as he began to pace a bit. "But yeah it's fine. That's good. I mean we had to do it, right? There was nothing else.....at least I'm normal, right? Well as normal as I'm ever going to be." Stiles laughed loudly, awkwardly, trying to contain his nervousness. "So how long is this...this link thing going to be there? We talking a few days? Weeks?"

 

 

Derek glanced over to Scott and Lydia, who looked like they really just wanted to be out of the room. He cleared his throat and moved to stand, reaching for his shirt and pulling it back over his head. "Uh...a little longer than that, Stiles."

 

 

Stiles nodded, jerking his head up and down. "Okay. Months then? That's fine. I can deal with that. How many month's are we talking about specifically? Do we know?"

 

 

"It's permanent." Derek finally said, softly.

 

 

Stiles nearly tripped over his own foot. He steadied himself, staring at the ground, swallowing constantly. "What do you mean exactly?"

 

 

"Exactly what I said." Derek sighed, running a hand through is hair. "The ritual last's forever, Stiles. It was the only way."

 

 

The first visible tremor traveled through Stiles, and he shut his eyes a moment before opening them again. "What does that mean? I mean, what does it mean to have this...thing....between us?"

 

 

"I don't know." Derek answered honestly. "Deaton said it's different for everyone. But...do you feel anything?"

 

 

Stiles' jerked his gaze up, his eyes wide. "What do you mean?" His voice broke slightly.

 

 

Derek glanced briefly over to Scott and Lydia who were silently watching the two with wide eyes. "I mean...." He moved a bit closer to Stiles. "Do you  _feel_ anything."

 

 

"I.....I feel.....I feel.....like I'm going to have a panic attack." He bent slightly, beginning to suck in wide gulps of air, reaching out to clutch at anything.

 

 

Scott was in front of him immediately, pushing him gently back to lean against the wall and whispering softly. "Hey it's okay man. Just breath. Come on."

 

 

Derek and Lydia hurried to stand right behind him, their worried eyes watching Scott try and calm him down.

 

 

"Can't....breathe...." Stiles choked, scooting, gripping Scott's shoulder.

 

 

Derek felt himself moving before he even knew it. Suddenly he was pushing Scott aside and moving in on Stiles', whose eyes only widened as he tried to smoosh himself even further against the walls. Derek laid a hot hand against his chest and his other on the back of the boy's neck. "Stiles, Stiles look at me."

 

 

Stiles finally stopped darting is gaze around and looked up at Derek, a slight tremble weaving through his body.

 

 

"Come on....breathe...."

 

 

 

Stiles stared up at Derek a moment before sucking in a sharp inhale, feeling something tug at his chest before warmth filled him. He blinked rapidly, his breath gaspid, but he was breathing at least. "What....what was that?" He choked out, staring up at Derek with wide eyes.

 

 

Derek drew in a trembling breath, trying to resist the urge to close his eyes. "You felt it too?" He asked, and when Stiles nodded slowly he wanted to growl in pleasure. "I think it's the link."

 

 

"I am so confused....but so incredibly turned on..." Lydia whispered very softly beside's Scott, so soft that only the wolves in the room would hear. A look of pure pain came over Scott's face and Derek slowly pulled his hands off of Stiles, taking a few steps back to try and calm his racing heart. 

 

 

"It feels...." Stiles lowered his gaze, his breathing still hitched. "It feel's a little strange. LIke I can almost physically feel something connecting to my chest."

 

 

Derek nodded, forcing himself to turn away, because if he looked at Stiles one more second he was going to do something he really shouldn't. 

 

 

"Well I don't know about you guys, but right now I really want to crawl into my bed and sleep for days." Lydia spoke up, breaking the slightly awkward silence in the room.

 

 

"Yeah. Sleep. That's a good idea. We should probably call it a night." Stiles nodded quickly. 

 

 

"Well we all came in your jeep, Stiles. Everyone's cars are still parked near Eichen House." Scott pulled the keys from his pocket, heading towards the door. "Come on. I'll drive everyone to their cars."

 

 

Stiles didn't even bother to say anything about Scott driving his car as they all made their way towards the door. "What about the Seer? Did you guys figure out what we went for?"

 

 

Everyone turned to Derek then, Scott and Lydia having forgotten to even ask under the circumstances.

 

 

Derek's eyes darkened and he nodded gravely. "Yeah. I'll give you guys the brief details in the car, and then we'll call a pack meeting for tomorrow to let everyone know what we're dealing with."

 

 

"We're going to be able to beat it, right?" Stiles asked softly, unknowingly having moved closer to Derek until their arms were brushing as they walked.

 

 

"Yeah. But it's not going to be easy." Then again, Derek had a feeling that a lot of things weren't going to be easy any more. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys and gal's I so started on this chapter yesterday but got distracted by a fairly large amount of redbull & coffee and somehow found that i had blanked out for about 4 hrs....yeaaah....so sorry about that. I'd like to say that during those intense caffeine over doses I have out of body experiences where I go off and battle dark forces and save damsel's in distress, and it's totally not a super weird/creeper image of me staring blankly at nothing until my body comes down from the high >_


	29. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The monster is revealed. Stiles feels like cuddling towards the end lol

As Scott drove Lydia and Derek back to their cars, Derek filled them in on what he had seen after looking into the Seer's third eye. And as he sat there in the back, talking, every second that ticked by filled them all with more horror and doubt, until by the time he had finished, they were all visibly shaken. Pale. Especially Stiles. He felt Scott's warm hand settle on his knee and squeeze slightly, as if to say 'you're okay. You made it out'. And while he had, what about the others? Stiles' trembling had quickly turned to one of rage. They had to stop this thing. This living  _nightmare_ , before it was too late. Because, if what Derek had seen was true, then it would never stop hurting people. By the time they had finally reached their cars, a silence had settled over everyone and they had just sat in Stiles' Jeep, as if none of them were quite ready to go their separate ways. Lydia was the first to get out, after after she had closed the door she moved around to the passenger's open window and had reached in to grab Stiles in a smothering hug. Stiles had flailed around a bit in surprise, before eventually giving in and hugging her back, squeezing just as tightly. Lydia had finally pulled back, and with gentle hands on his cheeks tipped his head forward and placed a kiss to his temple. Stiles had blushed faintly at the touch, unable to help himself. While he may not have a torch for Lydia any more, it wasn't like he was going to suddenly stopped being embarrassed by the thought of her kissing him. Anyone kissing him for that matter. Some things you just never grow out of. After that Derek had climbed out of the back seat as well, leaning close to the drivers window where Scott was. He had offered to stay with the two, just in case anything happened. And while the offer had been made casually, Stiles couldn't help but notice the way his jaw was clenched a bit too hard, his fist a bit too tight on the window sill. He entire time he hadn't taken his eyes from Scott as the Alpha assured him that he would stay the night with Stiles and that they'd both see him first thing tomorrow. Derek had lingered only a second, and then finally his shifting colorful eyes had darted over to Stiles, and Stiles could have sworn he felt a tugging at his chest, leaving him slightly breathless and feeling awkward. And then Derek was gone as well. He and Scott sat there a long moment, soaking up the silence and the dark around them. By the clock on the jeep it was close to two AM. They were both exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep. 

 

"Are you sure you're okay?" Scott had finally broken the silence.

 

Stiles had nodded after a moment. "Yeah."

 

And apparently that had been enough, because then they were driving again, heading for Stiles house. They arrived and were immediately bombarded by John, so Stiles and Scott had been forced to spend the next thirty minutes going over everything with him, and after Stiles' father had all but screamed bloody murder at them for being so stupid and young and doing dangerous things he had jerked Stiles to him for a tight hug, nearly sobbing from relief. He wasn't quite sure how to take the whole 'linked with Derek Hale' thing, but at that moment he was just too happy to see his son alive and well, and would most likely bring it up at another time when their emotions weren't so on edge.

 

 

Heading up stairs Stiles left Scott to head to his room as he made a turn for the bathroom. When he turned on the light and glanced at himself in the mirror, he haltered, turning fully to look at his reflection. Reaching up he pulled off his beanie and bit out a choked sob of relief when he saw his old dark chocolate toned hair. It was a complete mess and pushed flat to his head in some places and sticking up in others, but there was no trace of white to be seen. Scott was swinging open the door a second later, his eyes wide with worry. He saw Stiles' hair and everything made sense then, and he grabbed Stiles in a crushing hug as Stiles allowed himself to shed a few silent tears of relief. Scott's arms around him had tightened considerably then and Stiles had choked out something about going easy with the werewolf power-arms, and Scott had burst into loud laughter, refusing to release him. He had even shed a few tears of his own, threatening Stiles if he ever told.  As far as threats went, it had been a pretty weak one.

 

 

**********************

 

Stiles stopped in the hallway just outside of Derek's loft, staring down at his phone nervously. 

 

***Hey.***

 

Ryan had just sent the text. And thought it was incredibly short Stiles couldn't help but feel the fact that Ryan was texting him at all meant so freaking much. Had he gotten over the whole 'my friends are werecreatures and let's not forget that one banshee and kitsune chick' thing? More importantly had he forgiven Stiles for lying to him? For a moment Stiles was a bundle of nerves, unsure what he was supposed to text back. He didn't want to bombard the guy with paragraphs begging forgiveness but he didn't want to sound like he didn't give a shit either. In the end he settled for a simple " **Hi. How are you?"** and hoped it would suffice.

 

Suddenly a high pitched squeel was coming from down the hallway and Stiles managed to turn just in time with wide eyes before Kira was jumping on him. He stumbled back slightly from the force, staring down at her with arched brows as she stood on tip toes to place a peck on his lower cheek. "I'm glad you're okay." She said earnestly, her brown eyes bright.

 

Scott was approaching from down the hall, shaking his head with a grin.

 

"Dude, Scott, hate to tell you but I think your girlfriend has a thing for me. She's always throwing herself in my arms." Stiles said with a grin and Kira rolled her eyes before before skipping to Scott to jump in much the same manner, only Scott caught her under her ass and she wrapped her legs around his hips while they grinned at each other and kissed. Stiles rolled his eyes and looked away. "Why does it seem like I'm the only one not getting any action in this group. Again."

 

"Derek's not getting any action." Kira said in a sing song voice behind him and Stiles turned with an arched brow to see Scott scowling at her while Kira looked back at him impishly.

 

"Yeah, well, I'm sure in his case it's a choice and not because he's the most awkward person in the world." Stiles shook his head then. "Though I really don't get why. I mean come on, if I had a body like that I'd be one of the biggest man whore's that ever lived."

 

"Dude, bro, you do realize that you just admitted you think Derek has a nice body don't you." Scott said with a amused snort.

 

Stiles swung around to him with a glare. "Anyone with freaking eyes can see that, Scott so just shut the hell up!" He reached out a hand to opened the door but found it was opening for him. Stiles stared up and found Derek looking down at him with a slightly amused expression and felt his face go the color of molten lava. He cut a glare Scott's way (who was trying to hide his laughter), and pushed past Derek, muttering under his breathe. As he passed, his shoulder brushed Derek's and he sucked in a sharp inhale when he felt a tugging at his chest again. His gaze darted up at Derek and found the wolf looking down at him as well with slightly surprised eyes. Stiles looked away, his hands shaking slightly, and scampered over to the couch where Lydia and Parrish were sitting close together. Malia and Liam were sitting against the wall a few feet from them, their hands intertwined and in Malia's lap. Malia caught him looking and he gave a slight smile before looking away as Kira fell down beside him and Scott perched on the arm of the chair, throwing his arm around Kira. Scott had already sent the pack a group text explaining what all had happened last night, so they were all already aware of Stiles 'healed' status, as well as his new 'link' with Derek. Stiles had been super embarrassed about sharing that bit of the information, and had been kind of dreading the pack meeting because he knew it was going to come up sooner or later. Turns out it was sooner.

 

"So I want to know more about this ritual!" Kira began immediately, a greedy look on her face as she looked between Stiles and Derek.

 

Stiles sighed, running a hand through his hair that he really hadn't taken the time to do anything with that morning. He had woken up at around ten, managed to drag his ass in the shower, and thrown on the first pair of jeans and graphic tee he could find. The shirt said 'Vulcan in the streets, Klingon in the sheets', and the irony of the fact that he had not had sex in what felt like forever was not lost on him. Or at least that he could remember. There did happen to be a pretty hard core hickey on his neck that he still couldn't remember getting. "Aren't there more important things we should talk about?" 

 

"This is important!" Kira whinned.

 

"I agree." Lydia nodded, and Stiles couldn't help but feel like they were teaming up against him or something. "I think we should go over everything that we know. Derek, Deaton said that you knew the details. Care to share those with us?"

 

They all turned to stare at Derek then, and the wolf shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flickering to Stiles before clearing his throat and moving to sit in his recliner. He leaned forward, elbows on knees and hands clasped. He stared at the floor a moment before clearing his throat. "Well from what I gather he says it's different for everyone. But he did say that the ritual would link Stiles and I together. Be an anchor of sorts for him. He also said that with the link we would share strengths and weaknesses, but I have no idea what that means." Derek paused, glancing up at Stiles briefly. "He also said that the link will basically make us two parts of one whole."

 

Stiles tried to control the way his heart beat nervously at that. Two parts of one whole? What was that even supposed to mean? It sounded....intimate. From the quiet of the room, apparently the everyone else agreed. Stiles cleared his throat, needing to break the awkward silence. "So far nothing too weird has happened. I've just had some weird feelings in my chest but that's it."

 

Derek nodded, still looking at the floor. "Yeah. Me too."

 

"What I'm curious about is this mark that the two of you have now." Kira spoke up, leaning towards Stiles and squinting at his covered chest. "I want to see it."

 

"What? No." Stiles backed further into the couch, feeling very embarrassed suddenly. "It's just a weird looking symbol."

 

"Actually it's really beautiful." Lydia grinned at Kira, wagging her brows. 

 

The next thing he knew two pairs of hands were on him. Stiles let out a yelp and tried to jump away, but Lydia and Kira were ruthless and held him down before jerking his shirt over his head and pushed him back against the couch.

 

Kira's eyes bulged as she stared at him. "Has Stiles always looked like this? No wonder he never wants to take his shirt off!" Stiles hissed at her and reached up to grab the shirt from her, but she grinned and shoved it behind her back before her eyes were on him again, widening. "Whaaat? Is that a tattoo?!"

 

"Thank god!" Lydia drew out. "I was wondering about that!"

 

"I was actually a bit curious too." Scott muttered then, looking apologetic.

 

"Dude! Not cool!" Stiles hissed at him. "You're supposed to be on my side!" He felt Lydia grab onto the belt loop of his jeans then and begin to tug the material down to show more of the tatto and swatted her hands away with a red face. "Hey hey hey!! No touching the merchandise!"

 

"Jesus Stiles! How far down does the tattoo go?!" Lydia shrieked, looking far too intrigued.

 

Suddenly a deep, rumbling growl filled the room and everyone froze. Stiles felt a burst of warmth explode in his chest that left him a bit light headed. He looked up to see Derek watching them all with a very angry glare, and a survival instinct he didn't know he had made Stiles reach out, fumbling over Kira for his shirt, eyes still on Derek. "For the love of god Kira give me my shirt!"

 

Kira slapped it in his hand with equally wide eyes. Before he could get it over his head though Malia was suddenly standing over him, scowling down at him. "When did you get a tattoo?"

 

"A few weeks ago." Stiles muttered automatically, and then froze with a wince. He glanced nervously up at Malia and saw a brief look of hurt cross her expression before she turned and walked stiffly to the kitchen, not saying a word. Whatever tense emotion had come over the room then fell, and Stiles let out a curse before pulling his shirt back over his head and standing. Liam did the same, and Stiles held his hand up. "Just...let me talk to her for a minute. Please?"

 

Liam looked royally pissed off and concerned all at once but he nodded after a moment and moved back against the wall.

 

Sighing Stiles headed around the couch after her, glancing down briefly at Derek as he passed and feeling a shiver rush over his body when he found the wolf watching him closely. Stiles told himself it was because it was a creeper thing to do and was very determined to believe that.

 

He entered the kitchen a bit gingerly, finding Malia standing at the sink, not facing him. Her shoulders tensed as he came in, and Stiles hated that he made her so upset. "Malia?"

 

She didn't acknowledge him a bit, but then she finally turned to him, and even though her gaze was on the floor Stiles could see clearly the hurt in her eyes. "I just feel like you were hiding so much from me there at the end."

 

Guilt washed over him immediately. He hated hurting people  _so freaking much_. It went against his very nature. And the fact that he had hurt Malia, who he still cared for so much, ate at him. "I'm so sorry." He said softly, shaking his head. "I know it's not an excuse, but I was in a really weird place there for a while.

 

"It just felt like you didn't want anything to do with me anymore." Malia blurted out in a rush. "You'd pull away whenever I'd try to kiss you and we stopped having sex all together."

 

Stiles felt his face shoot red, because he knew that everyone was listening in on them in the living room. "Oh my god Malia...okay I know and I'm sorry again. I was...just...after Mexico things were just--" He drew off, because honestly he had no idea how to explain it.

 

"Stiles...it was before Mexico." Malia shook her head slowly, her eyes shinning with hurt.

 

"What?" What was she talking about?

 

"Stiles we hadn't had sex weeks before Mexico."

 

Stiles drew back at that, shaking his head. "What? Yes we did."

 

"Um..no we didn't. Believe me I tried a few times. You'd always mumble something about being tired or needing to do something. We slept together almost every night, but that's it."

 

Stiles stared at her, dumbfounded. He blinked a few times. "Are you sure?" He managed to squeak out.

 

"Yes I'm sure!" Malia hissed in irritation. "And then when we got back from Mexico you were even more distant and we even stopped sleeping together at night cause all you'd do was have freaking dream's about Derek and then you just stopped sleeping."

 

Stiles nearly fell over, even though he was standing still. "Oh my god! You can't say it like that! Nightmares! They were nightmares!" He could practically hear the hushed whispers from the living room. 

 

"But it was always about Derek, Stiles! I felt like I was freaking competing with him there at the end!"

 

"Oh jesus, you're trying to ruin me." Stiles stumbled forward and took a chair at the table, covering his face with his hands. And there was that tugging at his chest again, but suddenly Stiles just found it incredibly annoying. "I was freaking dreaming about him dying! You're totally making it sound very very wrong."

 

"But  _why_ were you dreaming about him every night, Stiles? Even if it was him dying?" Malia leaned forward to stare at him with unblinking eyes, and Stiles couldn't help but feel like he was incredibly exposed and naked.

 

"I don't know! It's normal to be a bit freaked out about seeing one of your friends almost die isn't it?"

 

Malia stared down at him a long moment before sighing, shaking her head, as if she had just given up about something. 'Yeah, I guess you're right. Just...I just hate that I feel like you didn't really care there at the end anymore."

 

Stiles' gut clenched painfully and he risked reaching across the table, holding out his hand. Malia eyed it wairly a moment before sighing again and moving forward to take his hand. Stiles gripped it between both of his, looking up at her with sincere eyes. "I know. And I'm so freaking sorry. I know that I pushed you away but I promise I never stopped caring. I still care for you." And he did. But only in a close friends way now, like everyone else. "I just...I hate us being like this. Despite everything you're still one of my best friends. I don't want to lose that. I get that you're mad at me, okay? I'll freaking take it. I deserve it. Just...you can't stay mad at me forever. Please? That would kind of suck." He tried his best apologetic grin.

 

Malia rolled her eyes at him, but after a moment a small grin came to her face as well. "You're so annoying.'

 

"Yeah I know. Shockingly I understand some people actually find it endearing."

 

Malia laughed fully at that , shaking her head. She looked down at him a moment longer before speaking. "Liam's a good person, you know. We get each other." She tilted her head with a slight frown then. "Plus he doesn't ask me to do all that weird stuff you used to while we were having se-"

 

"OH MY GOD WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO DESTROY ME?!" Stiles jumped up, scrubbing his hands through his hair madly and rushing out of the kitchen back to the living room. He didn't look at anyone. He was too afraid to, but he could feel all of their eyes on him. "Not a word!" He hissed out before sitting down on the couch, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at his shoes stretched in front of him. "We should talk about more important things now, for instance the gigantic shadow monster in Beacon Hills!" Was he shouting? Maybe. But he was too mortified to care at the moment.

 

Everyone was quiet a moment before Scott finally broke the silence. "Dude I can't help but ask...what did you ask her to-"

 

"NO! The monster! NOW!" Stiles lifted his hand to rub at his chest, which felt like was on fire. He knew that it was somehow connected to the link between him and Derek but didn't dare look up to see if Derek was feeling anything weird. He would most likely not be making eye contact with anyone else for....well ever.

 

Derek released what sounded like a tired sigh then before speaking. "So the creature is something called a  _Slaugh_."

 

"Spell that for us?" Lydia asked with a cheeky grin. 

 

Derek glared at her a moment before standing. "And from what I saw, it's extremely rare. So rare that there's hardly any accounts of them and their existence in itself is hearsay, which is why it wasn't in the bestiary."

 

Stiles felt that familiar prickling interest and looked up, scooting closer to the edge of the couch. Derek had given him Scott and Lydia a few details last night, but nowhere near enough, and Stiles had been itching all night and morning to get more information. 

 

"What...was it doing to me?" Liam spoke up, and by how his voice trembled slightly, it was clear that the boy still hadn't gotten over the horrific events of the other night.

 

"It was feeding off of you." Derek said softly, staring down at him.

 

"Feeding off of me how? What was it...eating?"

 

Derek didn't speak for a moment, and the gravity of that silence let everyone know just how serious the conversation really was. "You're soul."

 

Liam paled considerably at that, and Malia reached over to grab his hand in her's again, squeezing.

 

"Why the hell is it eating people's souls?" Parrish breathed out.

 

"Because it doesn't have one. A Slaugh in itself is nothing but...darkness. There is nothing good in it. This thing is pure evil." Derek began to pace slowly, back and forth in front of them, his motions clipped and tense. "From what I understand, this thing craves human souls. It  _has_ to consume them in order to live. But there's more." The wolf shook his head, struggling with his words. "It's like..even though this thing is nothing but darkness, it  _hates_ that darkness. Want's to be something else. So sometimes when it feed's it will....leave a piece of itself behind in it's victims."

 

Stiles felt his blood run cold at that, and involuntarily drew his arms tight around himself. "Which is what makes people go insane."

 

Derek nodded down at him, his eyes conflicted as if he were struggling with some sort of emotion.

 

"But I don't understand...this thing was feeding off of Liam, why didn't he...."

 

"All I can figure is we stopped it before it could infect him." Derek said softly.

 

"So how do we stop it?" Scott stood from the arm of the couch, his anxiety no longer letting him be still. "I mean this thing was made out of smoke. I went straight through it. And then there's the question of why Stiles didn't remember seeing it attack him!" Kira reached up and began to run her hand up and down the small of Scott's back, trying to offer comfort.

 

"You went straight through it because it's not fully formed yet. And as for not remembering, apparently this thing can do something to you to alter you're perception of it. It's so it can continue to feed from you."

 

"Okay, while that's highly disturbing; explain the part about it not being fully formed yet." Parrish hadn't been with everyone when they had seen the creature, and he was having a hard time fully understanding. 

 

"It starts off just as a malevolent force. Nothing more than smoke and darkness. And then the more it feeds, the more it manifest's a form, becoming physical."

 

"Is that why part's of it actually had a form, while other's were just black smoky stuff?" Kira questioned.

 

"Yes. Exactly."

 

"So what? We're just supposed to sit aside and let this thing keep hurting people until it becomes real enough that we can kill it?!" Scott bit out angrily. "That's bullshit! There has to be a way to defeat it before it comes to that."

 

"I agree with Scott. It's not in me to just sit aside while people are dying." Parrish nodded.

 

"That's just the thing. I don't think there is any other way." Derek said, clearly struggling with admitting it. "And if there is, I don't know. But what's worse, from what I understand, is that this thing,  _right now_ , the way it is, is at it's weakest stage. And guy's we can't even  _touch it_. How much worse is it going to be when it get's a physical body?"

 

The weight of that settled over everyone a moment, and Stiles didn't have to have supernatural powers to feel the fear and doubt in the room. They had never come across anything quite like this before in Beacon Hills. Hell even Stiles had never heard of a Slaugh, and he spent a ridiculous amount of time on Google. He'd even go as far as to call himself a Google Slut. So how the hell were they supposed to defeat something like this. "How are we supposed to find it? You say that this...thing..is a  _force_ , does that mean we stop looking into people as the monster?" Like Ryan, Stiles wanted to say, but didn't.

 

"No." Derek cleared his throat, looking down at Stiles. "This thing doesn't just appear out of nowhere. From what I understand it looks just like a regular person during the day, and then at night time it changes."

 

"Why night time? That's so freaking chiche." Lydia muttered.

 

"Because this thing feed's off of it's victim's while they're sleeping in the beginning."

 

"So what are we supposed to do? Just stake out all the names on the Deadpool, hang around their houses, and see if they turn into a big billowing smoke monster at night time?" Stiles drew out tensely. "And what about the people in town? It's not like we can exactly send out a memo to stack up on red bull's and go into Freddy mode. And then there's us. I mean do we just not sleep anymore until we've killed this thing?" God. This was so incredibly fucked up. On so many levels. And while Stiles had thought that once they knew what they were dealing with he wouldn't feel no where near as anxious, it was the complete opposite. Now he was fucking terrified. 

 

"We'll all have to stay together." Scott placed a hand on his shoulder. "Watch out for each other. Everyone taking different rounds to make sure that nothing happens while someone else is asleep."

 

Stiles laid his hand on Scott's arm, nodding with a sigh before falling back against the couch cushions, weary. "And you don't know any way to stop this thing before it get's physical?"

 

Derek shook his head. "No. I'm sorry."

 

Stiles nodded after a moment. "It's okay. I'll just do what I do best. Google the shit out of it and pray I come across something. But what are we supposed to do about our families? I can't just leave my dad alone." 

 

"And I can't leave my mom." Scott replied. "Do you think they'd agree to stay with each other until this is over."

 

Stiles couldn't help but snort. "Please dude. My dad with jump at the chance of a sleepover with your mom."

 

Scott pursed his lips in a hint of disgust. "So not what I wanted to hear."

 

Stiles grinned softly, shrugging a shoulder. "It is what it is."

 

"And what about the rest of us whose parent's don't know about the supernatural?" Lydia spoke up. "What is my mom and dad supposed to do? Whose going to be there to watch over them?"

 

"Or my family." Liam whispered. "...Mason....guy's this is so messed up. There are so many people that will be in danger."

 

"I know...but we can't give up now." Stiles refused to just roll over and let this thing destroy Beacon Hills. While he wanted to go as far away from the place as possible after graduation, it was still his home. These people his friends. Family. The idea of them being hurt by this thing was crushing. "I'll do some research. Maybe I can find something that can help. Some ward or something to keep us safe while we're sleeping."

 

"Deaton might be able to help with that too." Scott muttered. "I can ask him later if he has anything like that."

 

"So are we going to tell him that we know?" Stiles really didn't want him to know about Eichen House for some reason. Mainly about seeing the Seer. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't think that would go over well at all.

 

Scott thought a moment before shaking his head. "I'll just tell him we had a break through and found out what's doing it. Or have a pretty good idea at least."

 

Stiles nodded, happy with his answer. They were all quiet a moment, before Stiles couldn't hold it back anymore. "Are we going to talk about Peter?"

 

Derek tensed immediately, his body drawing straight. "What is there to talk about?"

 

"Maybe the fact that he was in there in the first place." Stiles drew out. "Do you think Deaton knew? Because I'm positive Chris did."

 

"It doesn't matter." Derek drew out darkly.

 

"How could it not matter? Why wouldn't they tell you?...They should have told you."

 

"Yeah well it's a little too late for that now. I know. But even that mean's nothing, because if I were to try and confront them about it, it would just give us away, wouldn't it?" Derek bit out, anger showing through in his expression.

 

Stiles wanted to say more. To draw more words out of Derek's mouth. To ask him how he felt about Peter being there. If he was angry that Chris and Deaton had lied to him. If he was angry that Peter was there in the first place. But in the end he didn't, because he felt like it was a conversation best left in private. It was clear Derek feelings were raw when it came to Peter. Stiles understood that it was hard showing people that, even if those people were your friends. In the end he didn't want to make Derek do or say anything he didn't want to. So he decided to let it go.

 

"So...what do we do now?" Kira asked softly, looking at everyone in the room.

 

"Well, unfortunately I have a shift starting in about an hour." Parrish stood with a sigh, and Lydia stood with him, pouting slightly. The sight seemed to thrill him, and he laughed good heartily. "Lydia what do you say you join me for an early lunch before you get back to whatever craziness you guys are going to do today."

 

Lydia beamed brightly and looked around at everyone. "We've got time for lunch, right?"

 

Derek rolled his eyes after a moment. "Do whatever you want. We do need to train at some point today, though."

 

"I agree." Scott said.

 

"Well, Jordan, it appear's you have my undivided attention."

 

If Stiles' had thought Parish's grin couldn't have gotten any larger he was severely wrong. Offering his elbow Lydia placed her hand in the crook of it before they sashayed past everyone and out of the loft. Stiles shook his head, turning back to everyone.

 

"I'll order some pizza!" Kira chirped and pulled her cell phone out while everyone got comfortable again.

 

Stiles sighed and layed his head back on the couch, closing his eyes. He felt Scott settle down beside him and after a moment scooted closer until he felt his heat seeping into his side. Scott threw an arched brow at him but Stiles just shrugged. What, so he couldn't want some cuddle time with his best friend? Hell Stiles had seen, disturbingly often, everyone pretty much cuddling together on more than one occasion. Scott had told him that it was a wolf thing. That the need to be physically close to the members of your pack was natural. How that could be natural Stiles didn't know. When Kira plopped down on the other side of him scooting close he couldn't help but appreciate the sensation of her body heat either. Frowning slightly he decided not too worry about his own sudden weirdness.

 

Maybe they were all just rubbing off on him or something.

 

 

 

 

 


	30. Stregnths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has a particularly well training session, much to everyone's surprise.

Stiles shut the door of the balcony behind him softly, smiling at the sight of Scott leaning over and grabbing a bit of Kira's pizza as she lifted it to her face. Liam and Malia were camped out in front of the couch, eyes glued to some crummy horror movie Liam had picked out, and Derek sat in his recliner, forehead resting in his hand as he stared in agony at the screen. It was some remake of a remake of a remake. Which basically meant it was total shit filled with nothing but over the top nudity and confusing plot holes. Yeah, no thanks. Stiles was an original kind of guy through and through. They just knew how to make horror movies so much better back in the day. He had excused himself, saying he needed a moment alone. Everyone had shrugged a shoulder easily, not needing any further information. All but Derek, of course. The wolf's gaze had cut into him, so sharply that Stiles was sure he may be bleeding somewhere. After chastising him and his over the top dramatics, Stiles had finally made it out to the balcony. Turning away from everyone he moved to stand near the rails, rubbing his chest absently with a frown before taking out his phone. Ryan had texted him back a while ago and he had never replied because they had been in the middle of discussing the Slaugh, and well, proper etiquette and all that jazz. Opening up the message Stiles read, unable to keep the small grin from blossoming on his face.

 

**RYAN: *I'm alright. Doing better than before that's for sure. Sorry for my freak out.***

 

Stiles half expected him to say something along the lines of 'everything's too weird. Never talk to me again', and the fact that he hadn't made him happier than he had expected. He rushed to text back.  **"Pretty sure finding out that things really DO go 'bump in the night' will give anyone a freak out. Trust me. I've been there."** Stiles stared down at the message a moment, before taking a deep breath and deciding to be brave.  **"I'm glad you texted me. Kind of thought the whole friends thing had went down the drain after the other night"**

 

The reply came only a few minutes later.  ***After that kiss?? You're not going to get away that easily, Stiles ;) ***

 

Stiles choked as he read the message, glancing around him with wide eyes as if to make sure no one was leaning over his shoulder reading. When he found the coast was clear he crinkled his nose and grinned a bit mischievously.  **"As always, the ultimate power of 'Stiles' has prevailed. Sorry dude. You never stood a chance."** Stiles hit send. Cocky? Yeah, maybe a bit. But at that particular moment he was feeling pretty damn good about himself. Ryan had made it blatantly obvious he liked Stiles after all. Might as well roll all around in that glory. 

 

**RYAN: *I'll do the right thing and take the defeat gracefully then. What do you say we call it a truce and go out for a burger later tonight?***

 

Stiles paused at that. It was a little after one. He knew that Derek had wanted to train today and wondered if it would be one of those horrific sessions that lasted long into the night. Ever since discovering his hickey (which shockingly no one had yet to say anything about) Stiles had been wanting to talk to Ryan. Find out what exactly had happened between the two of them to have gotten it in the first place. Well - scratch that - he KNEW how it had gotten there, obviously, but he didn't remember. And that was driving him insane. As well as the thought of whatever else could have happened that he didn't remember.  **"I'll try to get some free time tonight. Everything is kind of chaotic right now but I will let you know for sure."** Honestly, he had to tell Ryan about the Slaugh anyways. So if there was ever a reason to see him, it was that.

 

A slight uncomfortable tug pulled at his chest then, and Stiles frowned, rubbing at the still slightly sore glyph before drawing still, tilting his head a bit. The balcony door opened behind him suddenly, and he turned to see Derek sliding it back behind him once again, scowl in place and directed at Stiles.

 

Stiles snorted, shaking his head. "Dude, this thing is kind of creeping me out. I knew you were coming before you even did." He muttered, rubbing at his chest.

 

Derek moved to stand beside him, leaning over the balcony. "Yeah. I've felt it more than a few times too. What do you think it is?"

 

"There's no telling honestly." Stiles was quiet a moment, staring across the street at the run down buildings before clearing his throat. "I never really said thank you. For doing it in the first place. You didn't have to."

 

"Yes I did." Derek replied.

 

Stiles pulled away to look at him seriously. "No, Derek you didn't. You could have walked away, but you didn't. And I'm really grateful for that. I know-" Stiles drew off, struggling for words. "I know that it's a lot, okay? I mean this thing -it's.... _forever_ , and I don't know about you, but that word pretty much scares the shit out of me." Stiles admitted in a rush, unable to hold it back any longer. "And the fact that you were willing to do something like that when we're not exactly...." He drew off with a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair. "I mean I guess it's pointless to even try to lie given, well,  _this_ -" He motioned between the two of them hurriedly. "It's obviously you mean a lot to me. I mean as a friend, you know? For a while there I was going through a bad time, I still am really, but you pulled me though. You're  _still_ pulling me through and I just really don't want you to feel like you had to do this, because you didn't, and I guess I'm a little worried that you did it in a spur of the moment thing without really thinking cause again, I mean  _forever_. And we don't even know what this link thing fully entails. I just..." Stiles finally stopped rambling, rubbing at his chest yet again. The more he had spoke, the more intense the warmth and tug had grown, until he was nearly breathless from it. The whole time he had been speaking he was staring hard at Derek's chest, too nervous to look at his face. But as the silence stretched on and Derek didn't speak, Stiles risked a glance up, and felt his breath catch in his throat.

 

Derek's expression was raw, uninhibited, and heated. He moved forward in one fluid motion, crowding Stiles, who automatically took a step back and found himself stuck between the balcony rail and the wolf. Stiles was suddenly breathless. Hot. Confused and excited all at once. A heady combination that had his heart pumping fervently and scorching flames bursting from the center of his chest and spilling down his arms and torso. 

 

"I knew exactly what I was doing." Derek growled out in a deep vibrating rumble that flowed over Stiles in their close proximity. "I never had a doubt. Do you think I'd just watch you  _die_ , Stiles? As far as the ritual, I don't care what it may mean. We'll deal with that when it comes. Right now I'm just so fucking glad that you're standing in front of me. Whole again. To hell with the consequences."

 

Stiles blinked up at Derek with wide eyes, totally caught off guard with his words. For a second he had no idea what to say, but it didn't really matter, because suddenly Derek was leaning towards him and for a shockingly frightening and exciting moment he thought Derek was going to kiss him. But then he felt one of Derek's scruffy cheeks against his own, and sensed the pause in the wolf. As if on instinct Stiles turned his head to the side, baring his throat, and heard a rumbling growl rise from Derek before he proceeded to rub his face against Stiles, down his jaw bone and ear, and then across his neck. Stiles closed his eyes on a breathless sigh and soaked up the sensation a moment, before feeling Derek suddenly stiffen against him. The wolf's change snapped him out of whatever spell he had been under then and he stiffened as well, his eyes jerking open and shooting wide. Very slowly Derek drew back, his jaw clenched tight and his eyes stormy. He turned away from Stiles, not looking him in the eye.

 

Stiles opened his mouth on a choked exhale, struggling for words a moment. "What...were you just..."

 

Derek nodded stiffly. "Scent marking you. Yes."

 

Stiles swallowed hard a few times. "Okay. Why?"

 

Derek lifted a slightly shaking hand and ran it through his locks. "I'm not sure. I think it may have something to do with the link. I think it's confusing my wolf somehow. Making it think you are pack now."

 

"Well...it's not that strange I guess. I mean...we are friends...isn't it basically the same thing?"

 

"Yeah. In a way." Derek answered a bit gruffly before finally looking down at Stiles, searching the boys eyes as if to make sure he really wasn't freaked out too much. "If I start doing things like that again, don't feel too embarrassed to unsure to stop me. I won't be offended."

 

Stiles held his gaze a moment before nodding. "Okay. I will."

 

Derek gave a grunt of approval and turned, heading back into the loft. Stiles lingered behind a bit, trying to steady his heart and calm his breathing. The thing was...he  _hadn't_ felt embarrassed. Well, true, he had after it had happened. But initially? It had just felt...right. And that perhaps made him the most nervous.

 

****************

 

After eating lunch and Lydia returning, the pack had headed out for the Preserve to do some endurance training. Much to Malia and Kira's glee, Derek and Scott had settled over a type of hide and seek game. In simple terms, he, Lydia, and Kira were set free to high tail their asses in the woods, while the other's chased them down. Stiles and his group had to go their longest with out maneuvering and evading the other's. Stiles had complained in great lengths about being lumped in with the chicks, but Lydia had taken one look at him and silenced him immediately with her death glare. Besides. Stiles had seen Kira run before. The girl was like a freaking gazelle. That thought had caused a giggling fit for Stiles when he realized the irony of it. Gazelle being hunted down by a pack of wolves. After a few confused stares and one particular brooding glare though, Stiles had reigned it in and was now presently standing in a line with Kira and Lydia, who were bouncing a bit anxiously on their feet.

 

"Still don't think this is a fair game!" Stiles called, looking over his shoulder where everyone else leaned against tree's, staring at them. What chance do we really have against supped up werewolves anyways?"

 

"That's why it's called the fight AND flight exercise."  Derek drew out in a gravely tone. "You run, and if you're caught, you fight."

 

Stiles snorted and rolled his eyes. "You're right. That sounds so much easier. Can I get a weapon or something at least?!"

 

" _Stiles._ " Derek drew out warningly.

 

"Oh my GOD! Worst idea EVER!" Stiles turned back to face Kira and Lydia and found them staring dryly at him.

 

"Really not putting a good name for the human race right now." Lydia said dourly.

 

"Yeah, and has anyone notice I'm the ONLY freaking human here? That seem's to have slipped everyone's mind! I'm going to be pulverized!" 

 

"Don't worry, man. If I'm that one that get's you I'll go easy on you." Scott spoke up from behind him and Stiles didn't even bother turning around, just threw his middle finger up over his shoulder, and heard Scott snort into laughter. 

 

"Alright. You get a three minute head start!" Derek pushed away from the tree he had been leaning on, and as he looked between the three of them, his gaze landing on Stiles.

 

In that moment Stiles knew. He just freaking  _knew_ that Derek was going to bulldoze his ass at some point and make him eat dirt. It was not a very refreshing thought.

 

"GO!"

 

Stiles jerked into action, taking off immediately. And falling. He landed on his face with a groan, and immediately heard laughter from behind and in front of him. Saying a few colorful words under his breath because he knew the savages could hear him anyways, he scrambled back to his feet and shot into the woods. He caught sight of Lydia and Kira before they veered off into different directions. Lydia seemed to be doing...not well actually. Which made him feel increasingly better. Kira, on the other hand, was just jumping and leaping over shit and sprinting in an annoyingly graceful manner. Stiles glared at her before cutting off into the woods at his left. He briefly thought about just finding a really tall tree and climbing it, but figured they'd just be able to smell him up there anyways. Damn. You just couldn't cheat when it came to werewolves. Looking behind him he saw that the other group was no longer visible and sped up, trying to get as much distance as possible. He didn't want to make it too easy for them. Plus, now that he's running, he's kind of really enjoying it. Like a lot. Smiling wide, Stiles pushed his legs even harder loving the slight burning ache in his muscles. The ground under hit feet was a constant rhythm, a electric spark shooting upwards through his legs with each step. He didn't think he had ever really just ran like this. At least not in a long time. Not since he had been a kid. He had a feeling that come morning he would be walking on wobbly legs, but he didn't really care. In fact he looked forward to it. 

 

He had almost forgotten that he was running for a reason, until he saw a blur of movement in the corner of his eye. Jerking his head around Stiles saw someone moving through the tree's, coming at him fast. He saw flashing yellow eyes and immediately knew it was Liam and almost groaned. Figures the guy would be the one to take him down. He had been pretty huffy after Stiles and Malia had finished talking that morning, sending random stink eye's his way. Stiles guessed he couldn't blame him, but damn. Did the universe really have it in for him that badly?

 

A stray thought came to him then. What if he didn't let Liam get him? What if he just kept running. Out maneuvered him. Suddenly, Stiles felt wicked glee coursing through his veins and trained his eyes on Liam again, watching him come in fast. He felt the air shift right beside him as Liam's hand shot out, and with a finesse that Stiles didn't even know he possessed, he shot to the left, dodging and cutting a new course. He couldn't help but glance over his shoulder with wide eyes, a little shocked he had actually gotten past Liam, who also had an equally confused look on his face. That looked turned to one of pure determination then and he started after Stiles again.  _Oh boy, he mean's business._ Grinning like an idiot Stiles lowered his head and pushed himself harder. He heard Liam crashing through the leave's behind him, gaining on him. He kept his line straight, not dodging left or right, his eyes zoned in on something ahead.  _Almost there, so close!_ A growl came at his back then, so close he could almost feel the breath of it, and Stiles let out a little yelp before finally suddenly changing direction. Liam, who had been at a full run, didn't have time to slow down before he went crashing face first into the large tree right in front of him. _  
_

 

Stiles slowed to a stop, his eyes wide and his mouth open. He heard the loud snap of face hitting tree and watched as Liam fell backwards immediately. Shoving a fist in his mouth to stop from laughing (and most likely getting himself killed), he watched as Liam fumbled around blindly on the ground a moment, his face bloodied and his nose broken. Eh. It would heal. "Dude. That - look's painful." He couldn't help but snort out. Liam groaned and rolled to his side, holding his bloodied nose, his golden eyes glaring at Stiles angrily. It was a glare that said 'as soon as I get up, I'm going to kick your ass'. Stiles didn't have time to worry over it, though, because suddenly a very cold, chilling sensation on the back of his neck had him turning his head slowly and his eyes practically fell out of his socket as he saw Derek crashing through the tree's coming at him at mock speed, eyes glowing blue. "Oh sweet baby jesus." Stiles choked out, his heart beginning to pound in worry.

 

Stiles didn't waste any more time. He turned and ran so fast he was pretty sure he broke the speed of light. Well. He knew this moment was going to come sooner or later. He half wanted to twist around and throw his hands up. Pull off his tidy whities (hey it was laundry day!) and offer them up as a white flag. Just so he wouldn't feel the massive amounts of pain he was no doubt about to receive. But then again, there was some other part of him- most likely suicidal -that said if he was going to go out, he didn't want to make it easy for Derek.

 

Something inside of him shifted then. Some burning force that spilled through his bones and muscles with liquid hot intensity, and Stiles ran like he had never ran before. Suddenly his feet were aware of every nook and cranny in the ground before they even hit, and his balance shifted to something near perfect. The fact that Derek was still fast on his ass had him anxious, but at the same time he was eager to see just how far he could get before he got caught. Feeling the air hit against his face with an almost stinging intensity Stiles leveled his breathing to controlled, quick in and exhales. He leaned his head forward a bit, knowing that if his body was too straightly aligned he'd just tire himself out more quickly. He vaguely noticed that the ground some ways in front of him was raised a bit, creating a sort of cliff, but still didn't pause. Forcing himself even faster he felt his feet reach the edge before leaping over. As he hit the air, a fleeting moment of  _oh shit_ came over him, but then his feet were on the ground again, stumbling just slightly, before he was straightened again and then back at it. Stiles risked a glance over his shoulder and found Derek landing from the jump, his blue eyes blazing and in that moment Stiles knew he was about to be caught. In all honestly he had gotten a lot further than he had expected. Still...seeing the murderous look on Derek's face he felt fear begin to peak again, sharp and tangy. He began to stumble, losing his previous grace. "Oh my god! A game, Derek! It's a game!" He shouted out hoarsely, trying to get Derek to slow down in his steps, cause if he didn't the dude was really going to knock him senseless. When it became clear Derek wasn't going to ease up, Stiles gave a choked curse and twisted around to run again. He was almost immediately plowed to the ground.

 

The air left his lungs in a hard, painful exhale, and Stiles shut his eyes as they watered slightly. His face was shoved in the dirt a moment before he was roughly jerked around to lay flat on his back, and Stiles sputtered, trying to get the taste of earth from his lips. Derek sat straddling him, his chest rising and falling in deep motions and his eyes glowing blue against the dark of the canopy of tree's overhead. Stiles stilled, staring up at him with wide eyes, feeling his breath catch in his throat but for a whole different reason this time. Looking up at Derek right then, the way his lip was curved just the slightest at the corner, and a gleam in his eye, Stiles knew that Derek really enjoyed the chase. Like the freaking sadist he was. 

 

"Stiles." Derek growled out suddenly, and the boy jerked at his name.

 

"Yeah?" He squeaked.

 

Derek rolled his eyes slightly before bending down until their faces were almost touching. "This is the 'fight' part."

 

"Huh? Oh!!! Oh, yeah. Okay." Stiles frowned up at him a moment. "So like...what am I supposed to do?"

 

Derek stared down at him like he was the dumbest creation on earth a moment before suddenly his face had shifted to it's Beta form, and he was roaring in Stiles' face, all fangs and glowing eyes and danger. Apparently that's what it took for Stiles to snap into focus. Releasing a shriek his hand flailed across the forest floor until he found a particularly thick stick, and without thinking he whopped it hard against Derek's face. Derek swayed slightly, his eyes fluttering a bit at the unexpected attack, and Stiles used the opening to twist sideways until they were rolling and Stiles found himself on top of the wolf, who now had a slightly stunned expression on his beast like face before he released a deep growl and then he was surging upwards, his clawed hand gripping Stiles neck and pulling him back slightly as Derek sat up, Stiles still in his lap. Stiles froze as he felt sharp claws press against the tend skin of his neck, his breathing still fast from running. He looked down at Derek, who was watching him through a narrowed gaze.

 

"How did you do that." Derek bit out.

 

Stiles frowned at him and swallowed, noticing how the claws dug a little harder with the movement. "Do what?"

 

"Run that fast. I've seen you run before. You've never been like that."

 

Stiles didn't know what to tell him. "I don't know. I've been running a lot at night. Maybe I've just gotten better." He breathed, searching Derek's narrowed eyes.

 

"No. I don't think so." Derek stared at him a moment longer before finally shifting back from his Beta form. Stiles felt the claws retract, but Derek did not remove his hand, only wrapped it tighter around Stiles neck. Stiles opened his mouth to try and suck in a soft breath, and Derek's eyes followed the movement, and when he spoke, his voice was all but a purr rumbling in his chest. "So what are you going to do now, Stiles? What's your next move?"

 

Stiles glared down at Derek a moment before searching his gaze around him for something he could use as a weapon. When he moved to grab a large rock, Derek used his other hand and grabbed his wrist, pulling it away from the ground and close to their bodies. "You've got to do better than that." Derek all but whispered, his eyes growing dark and his pupils dilating in an explosion of darkness. For a second, a thought crossed Stiles' mind that made him grow red immediately, and heat wash over his body. The tug/warmth in his chest appeared again and he watched as Derek frowned, knowing that he had felt it as well. Stiles had no idea what provoked him to do it, but in his messed up head he saw it as a last resort, and decided to headbutt Derek.

 

Apparently it was not all gravy and biscuit's like he had seen in the movies. Because while Derek hissed slightly Stiles let out a loud groan of agony and fell backwards against the leaves, grabbing his throbbing forehead. "Oh my GOD! Freaking werewolves and their steal like bodies! Seriously man!"

 

"Are you an idiot!" Derek hissed at him before leaning over and grabbing onto his arm to take away the pain.

 

"It was all I could think to do!" Stiles cried angrily, glaring up at Derek under his hand. "If you weren't so damned hard everywhere! Jesus Derek eat some ho ho's or something once in a while!"

 

"How the hell is that supposed to make my  _face_ softer!" Derek growled out, coming to a stand and jerking Stiles up.

 

Stiles wavered, his vision going out briefly. He felt Derek curse and wrap an arm around his waist, steadying him. 

 

"I swear you are the dumbest person I've ever met!" 

 

"Yeah?! Well you are the most infuriating asshat of a werewolf I've ever met, okay?!" Stiles shot back at him, but allowed him to continue helping him walk, even when his vision had cleared.

 

Everyone came running towards them then, and Stiles saw Liam glaring at him something fierce and couldn't help but beam proudly at him before turning his grin to Derek. "Hey. You see what I did there?" He motioned to Liam, who growled.

 

Derek rolled his eyes. "Yes, Stiles. I saw. Good job."

 

Stiles lifted a hand to fist pump the air, which Liam really did not like.

 

"Everything okay?" Scott asked, his eyes lowering to Derek's arm around his waist. 

 

Derek seemed to notice what he was still doing and immediately pulled away. "Yes. We're fine."

 

"Why is Stiles' forehead so red?" Kira cocked her head with a frown.

 

"Because the dumbass thought it would be a good idea to head butt me." 

 

Everyone cringed at that, shaking their heads in sympathy, while Lydia just stared at him like he had no brain cells. He may have actually lost some during that headbutt in all honesty. "What Sourwolf is failing to tell you all, is I gave Liam the slip, and made this big guy chase me around a good bit before he caught me."

 

Scott perked up, looking proud at his best friend. "Really?"

 

Derek crossed his arms over his chest, studying Stiles. "Yeah. But don't you think that's a little weird."

 

"Dude! Seriously?!" Stiles rolled his eyes. "Come on man, can't I just be that good?"

 

"No." A few people chimed in at once and Stiles stared unimpressed at them. 

 

"Okay so what then?"

 

"I think it's somehow connected to the link. Deaton said that we would share strengths and weaknesses. I'm thinking I may know what he meant now."

 

 

 

 


	31. Faking It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles test's his new found abilities. Later that day he and Ryan had a serious conversation, growing closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> siiigh sometimes I'll write something and pause, staring at it and thinking 'Damn...I really hope I come up with an explanation for that'. Eh. It is what it is. In my opinion, the stories that have a life of their own are the best.
> 
> ARRRGHHHHHHHHHHHH FRUSTRATION!!!! lol so i went back to edit some of the chapter and now for some dhfuidhufhewuhueiwhfuidhfiudh reason (calm breath) a paragraph isn't seperating correctly. I've tried to fix it various times but am NOW. TOO. ANGRY. TO. DO . IT. ANYMORE!!! U_U so...don't hate me lol sorry

"Dude! I'm sorry this is just the greatest thing since....since - well since curly fries."

 

Scott dropped his jaw at that, staring at Stiles in shock. "Dude."

 

Stiles eyes buldged in his head. "I  _know_ , right?! Scott you know I don't use curly fries in comparison lightly." Stiles swung around to Derek, who was standing in his loft looking more than a little annoyed at Stiles obvious excitement. "Dude, Derek, come on. We got to test this out more."

 

"We don't even know if it's true, Stiles." Derek rolled his eyes. It could just be some fluke. Or you could have just gotten better from all those suicidal midnight runs you used to do!" 

 

"Oh come on!" Stiles pointed behind him to Scott, who had just gotten off of the phone with Deaton. "Deaton said it's a possibility! Why can't you allow me to just have superpowers for once?" Stiles pouted at him a moment before his eyes shot wide again, and that invisible light bulb over his head must have blinked to life. "I know! The marks! The - ah! Glyphs! The..just take your shirt off!" Stiles immediately jerked his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor.

 

"Stiles what the hell?!" Derek bit out.

 

Stiles looked down at his chest, where the Glyph was. The wound was still healing, a raised pink mark that still ached when he reached out and touched it. His shoulders sagged immediately, bummed out. "Ah, dude. I thought it would be healed."

 

"Why the hell would it be healed?!" Derek growled, bending over and all but throwing Stiles shirt in his face. 

 

Stiles let it drop again absently, much to everyone's delight, except Derek's of course. "Let me see yours." He said, looking up at Derek with inquisitive eyes.

 

"No." Derek growled out the word with such emphasis it somehow had gained an extra syllable.

 

"Oh come on. Please? I just want to compare." Stiles looked behind him to the other's with a begging expression, almost as if they could somehow convince the wolf to agree. Scott just shrugged his shoulder with a frown.

 

"I think Stiles has a point." Lydia spoke up, and Stiles wanted to go over there and kiss her for that.

 

"Lydia Martin you are an angel among men!"

 

"Yes I know." Lydia moved forward to step beside the two of them, looking at the glyph on Stiles chest a moment and then nodding, as if she had decided on something. "As I was saying, Stiles has a point. Deaton himself said that he wasn't sure what this 'link' between the two of you would entail. But he _did_ say that the two of you would share strengths and weaknesses. Therefore it's a high possibility that Stiles may be somehow tapped into some of your werewolf capabilities. I agree. I think the two of you should test those waters. See exactly what all that may include."

 

Derek glared down at her a long moment before rolling his eyes and pulling his shirt over his head. Stiles leaned forward immediately, peering at the mark, which had sadly already healed to just a slightly raised white scar. The sight of it was still somehow...jarring. And as if he couldn't help himself Stiles lifted a hand to trace it with his fingertips. He heard Derek inhale softly and felt a slight tugging warmth in his chest and looked up at the wolf to see he had a closed off expression, staring at the wall. Stiles looked back down to the mark, tracing it's pattern. "It's so hard to believe that something that looks so simple could be so powerful." He said softly, letting his hand drop back to his side. "Does it hurt?"

 

Derek shook his head, his jaw clenched stiff. 

 

Pulling his gaze away from Derek chest Stiles looked back at everyone with a shrug. "Okay so it looks like I don't have the whole healing ability. Which yeah, does suck, but that doesn't mean I haven't gotten a few other things." He finally retrieved his shirt and pulled it back over his head, Derek immediately moving to do the same. "We need to start doing test's. Stamina, endurance, pain tolerance. We already know I've gotten better with speed." Stiles perked up suddenly, turning around to look at Scott. "Scotty let me hit you bro!"

 

Scott blinked at him a few times. "Huh?"

 

"Oh my god dude, what if I've got the supped up strength now too!" He all but skipped and hopped over to Scott, who was now looking pretty uncomfortable.

 

"I'm not going to let you hit me." He muttered.

 

"Oh come on. It's not like it will bruise your pretty face. And if it does Kira will just think it's cool. Chicks dig guys with scars and all that stuff."

 

Kira nodded beside him, her lips pursed. "It's true."

 

"This is the stupidest idea I've ever heard." Liam muttered beside Malia.

 

Stiles turned a cheeky grin to him. "You still mad, bro?"

 

Liam twitched visibly and Malia twined her fingers with his, though she couldn't keep the slight grin from her face. 

 

Stiles swung back around to Scott. "Come on man. It's not like I'm going to punch your face off!"

 

"You realize that makes no sense right?"

 

"Yeah well..I just wanna punch you in the face Scott. What can I say?"

 

Scott let his head fall back in a groan before moving away from Kira to keep her out of the cross fires just in case. They all knew how much Stiles could flail. "Alright. Come on."

 

Stiles tried not too look to excited about the prospect of punching his best friend, but well some things you just couldn't hide. "Dude. We should start our own fight club."

 

"Then you'd already be breaking the first rule." Derek muttered without amusement.

 

Stiles swung around to him a moment with a look of sheer pleasure, over joyed by the fact that Derek had seen the movie. "You just felt that? We just bonded right there. I think this could be something special."

 

" _Stiles_!" Scott drew out impatiently.

 

"Yeah yeah okay. Jeez. Never knew someone who was in a rush to get punched before." Stiles muttered before clearing his throat and looking at Scott. He nodded to himself after a moment. "Okay. Are you ready?" At Scott's slightly peeved nod Stiles sucked in a deep breath and exhaled a long moment before lifting his fist and punching Scott in the nose. Scott released a slight swear but other than that his head only jerked to the side slightly.  When he turned back to Stiles he was twitching his nose, a look of annoyance on his face but not much pain. Stiles felt his shoulders drop.

 

"Well guess that solves that then." Derek muttered behind him.

 

"Let me try again." Stiles blurted out when Scott moved to return to Kira's side. Scott stared at him with a 'are you serious' look before rolling his eyes and just standing there, waiting. Stiles hit him again, this time with a little more force. Scott's face jerked back this time, and he took a step back, a curse ringing louder from his lips. Stiles wanted this to be real so freaking much. He was sick and tired of feeling so useless. He  _needed_ this. 

 

"Okay I think that's enough." Derek drew out gruffly from behind them.

 

When Scott straightened again Stiles gripped his fist tight and without hesitation slammed it into Scott's face. Scott released a cry and fell to his side on the ground. Stiles' eyes shot wide as he stared down at Scott, unable to believe that he had just hit him,  _a werewolf_ \- hard enough to get that kind of reaction. He immediately felt horrible. Moving forward he crouched and laid a hand on Scott's shoulder. "Oh my god dude I'm so sorry are you okay?"

 

Scott's head came up then, his eyes red and his chin tight. Stiles drew back slightly with wide eyes, holding his hands up in a nonthreatening way, and behind him Derek growled, moving forward to stand beside Stiles stiffly, just in case.

 

Scott sucked in a deep breath and clenched his eyes shut a moment, and when he opened them again they were their usual puppy dog brown. Scott lifted a hand and swiped at the blood on his nose before turning a slightly goofy grin to Stiles. "Well that was definitely harder that you've ever hit."

 

"Are you a freaking idiot!"

 

Stiles was dragged up suddenly by Derek, who was glaring at him. "What if he had attacked you?"

 

"Hey!" Scott barked out, hurt, at the same time Stiles rolled his eyes.

 

"Come on dude, it's Scott. He wouldn't hurt me. Would you buddy?"

 

Scott grinned at him as he stood, touching his healing nose with a wince. "So I'm going to have to agree with you on everything. I think you might be channeling some of Derek's powers."

 

Lydia rolled her eyes. "We're all doomed."

 

"I'm not too sure how I feel about this either." Kira agreed. "We maybe have created a monster."

 

Stiles scoffed. "Come on guys! This is awesome! If I had known this was all it took to get super bad ass powers I would have done it years ago!"

 

"Would you stop being so damned happy!" Derek raged suddenly, grabbing onto his shirt and jerking him forward until their chest's collided. He glared down at a surprised Stiles. "You almost  _died_ Stiles.  _Died_. You shouldn't joke about that!"

 

"But I didn't!" Stiles bit out, and his words made Derek momentarily think of that night at the loft weeks ago when he had same the exact same thing to Stiles. How had their roles reversed in so short a time? "And neither did  _you_." Stiles added, almost as if he could read Derek's mind. And who knows, maybe with the link between them that was a possibility now. "So would you stop being so damned serious for once! Jeez Derek live a little, will you?"

 

Stiles realized that his words may have been a bit hypocritical, after all he had been swimming in so much darkness just recently. But for some reason it just felt like a weight had lifted off of his shoulders. Not entirely. Just enough to make him start appreciating the simple things again. Besides, he had always hated how withdrawn and closed off Derek was. Hated the way the man rarely smiled. Truly smiled. He understood that Derek had baggage, hell he had a shit ton himself, but he couldn't let that drag him down anymore. He had to start moving forward with his life again. Move out from the murky waters into the crystal clear waves of the sea. 

 

Derek glared down at him, aware of the silence and stillness of everyone in the room, watching them. He looked at the way Stiles' rich honey eyes shifted with the fading light of the loft, growing darker until they were something close to molasses. Stiles had his mouth slightly parted, as he always did. His lips carried a wet sheen from where he had licked them just before, and that sheen beckoned Derek, screamed at him for attention. Derek's hand tightened in the material of his shirt and her jerked Stiles slightly more forward, his eyes narrowing. "I don't think you want to see me 'live a little'." He drew out in a rumbling growl, feeling something akin to a shiver of warmth spread across his chest. Stiles eyes widened slightly and he held his gaze a moment longer before his eyes darted down and away, and for some reason that really annoyed Derek. He wanted his changeling gaze. Sighing Derek released Stiles and looked at a clock on his wall. "You can all come back to the loft before nightfall. We can go over the deadpool list and decide what to do about the names on it then." He glanced briefly to Scott. "Do you agree?"

 

Scott cleared his throat, glancing between Derek and a slightly twitching Stiles. "Yeah. Sounds like a good idea. I'll head to Deaton's to see if there's anything we can use to hopefully stop this thing from attacking people in their sleep and then let my mom know what's going on. Stiles, you wanna let your dad know they're going to have to stick together until we have this thing figured out?"

 

Stiles nodded absently, rubbing at his chest. "Yeah. Uh, I've got some stuff to do as well. But I will text you guys, okay?" He briefly grinned at everyone before heading to the door and out of the loft. Once in his Jeep he laid his hands on the steering wheel and just stared ahead in silence. This was getting....weird. Stiles couldn't help but feel like the link that had been created between him and Derek was somehow messing with his head. More importantly his body. It was like he couldn't be around the guy without...well, for lack of a better word getting a boner. It was incredibly embarrassing and usually when he felt the first twinge of lust building he tried to cut it off immediately.  Okay, so maybe he had felt that twinge of lust before the link, but he had never put too much thought into it. Derek was a severely attractive man and Stiles was apparently into dude's at times. With this link, though, it was like those emotions had been heightened and it was all he could do to keep himself from walking around with a tent in his pants. What was even more horrifying was the fact that he  _knew_ Derek could tell. As well as pretty much everyone else. Thank god no one had really said anything about it, other than just a few light teases from the girls and sometimes Scott. But Stiles just felt like if he didn't get this under control it was really going to cause a problem. And the last thing he and Derek needed was MORE of a problem between them. 

 

Groaning Stiles pulled out his phone and sent a message to Ryan, sitting in silence a few moments later before he received a text back and then he was driving into town. Twenty minutes later he was pushing open the door to the diner, a little bell ringing over his head to announce his entry. Pausing Stiles glanced around him until he found Ryan waving him down at his left and he grinned, heading over and plopping himself down across from him in the booth. "Hey." He said, feeling suddenly a little shy.

 

Ryan grinned mischievously at him and laid his phone screen down on the table from where he had been texting or something.  Stiles got a brief glimpse of a picture before looking back up at Ryan. "I'm glad you came."

 

Stiles rolled his eyes and sat back with a sigh. "Dude, you have no idea how much I needed this. I've had a crazy day."

 

Ryan looked around him with a slight frown before drawing closer. "Have you guys found out what's going on in town?"

 

Stiles nodded somberly. "Yeah. It's not cool at all. I will fill you in about it after I stuff my face with a burger and some curly fries."

 

Ryan arched a brow. "Curly fries?"

 

Stiles stared at him with a look of absolute pain before beginning to speak loudly. "Yes! Curly fries! Do they not have those where you are from?!"

 

"We have french fries, but call them chips, or shoestrings depending on their thickness. But none of the curly persuasion." Ryan grinned, clearly intrigued by how insulted Stiles appeared.

 

Stiles shook his head sadly. "Dude. That's just sad. Well! You are in for a treat then. I swear you're going to love them. They are like the best thing ever." He grinned as a waitress came up to take their order, and made sure to order an extra plate of curly fries. He usually could eat them all himself, but figured he'd share this one time with Ryan. When she had walked away, slipping her notepad in her apron, Stiles turned back to find Ryan looking at him with a small smile, and couldn't help but blush slightly. "What?"

 

Ryan gave a slight shrug. "Nothing. I'm just really glad you came."

 

"Why wouldn't I? If anything wouldn't you be the one to refuse?"

 

Ryan snorted, his grin growing and showing off a charming dimple. "You obviously have no idea just how powerful your persuasive charms can be."

 

"Apparently not. But I'm starting to get an idea." Stiles said with a slight laugh before a serious look came over his face. He leaned forward in the booth them, looking Ryan over. "Have you been doing okay? Nothing strange happen to you or anything like that?"

 

"Do you mean has some giant floating swirling blackness attacked me?" The boy visibly shuddered. "No, Stiles. Nothing like that. That I know of, at least."

 

"You'd know it." Stiles muttered, looking at his hair.

 

Ryan seemed to follow his train of thought then because his eyes were widening slightly as he leaned forward. "Hey. You're hair doesn't have white in it anymore. Does that mean..."

 

"Yeah." Stiles shut his eyes in relief. "Yeah I'm not infected by that thing anymore. We found a way to stop it from taking over me. It wasn't easy and it didn't come without a price, but at least I'm not going to go insane and hurt anyone."

 

Ryan looked at him a long moment before reaching across the table and taking his hand. "Good. I'm glad."

 

Stiles stared down at Ryan's hand in slight embarrassment. He gave an awkward smile and pulled away as the waitress came back with their drinks. Honestly he was a little relieved. He liked Ryan and all, but he didn't want to take things too fast. Hell it had taken him forever to get a girlfriend. To get his first kiss. And while most of that had been because he was just the biggest dork ever, he didn't want to ruin things by rushing too fast into something. He had always felt like that night at Eichen House with Malia had been a mistake. Well, not at the moment, of course. But afterwards he had been smart enough to realize that he had been in a very bad place and they had both just  _needed_ someone to hold onto. They had both needed touch. If Stiles could go back he knew he wouldn't have let it get that far that fast. Sometimes he even thought that with Malia, his heart and his body weren't exactly going at the same rate, though he'd never dare let her know that. Even now.

 

As they sat there and ate, they talked easy. Things with no real weight or significance. Things like favorite movies and bands. And as the minutes ticked by, Stiles realized that he hadn't really been able to talk like this with anyone in a long time. To have a conversation that did not involve the supernatural or planning something, or running from something. It was just so freaking...easy, and he felt a bit more of that weight on his shoulders begin to lift. By the time almost two hours had passed, Stiles had found out that Ryan was into underground folk music bands. That he had wore braces up until eight grade (Stiles had always noticed his annoyingly perfect teeth). Ryan's favorite superhero was Batman (Stiles had caused quite an alarm when he had shouted out in happiness from that), and Ryan really liked old black and white movies. Mostly the grungy detective kind. By the time Ryan paid for their food (Stiles had offered of course, but Ryan wouldn't have any of that), Stiles had already invited Ryan over for a night where they could stay up until dawn watching old black and white movies and all of the Batman's. Ryan had eagerly agreed, and as they walked out of the diner they were both grinning like two idiots on a high.

 

The silence that settled over them though as they walked to their individual cars brought everything crashing back, and Stiles remembered that he really needed to let Ryan know about the Slaugh so he could be prepared. He asked Ryan to sit with him in his Jeep a bit before they split ways. Putting his key in the ignition Stiles turned on the radio to a soft background noise as he sat back with a sigh. 

 

"Are you okay?" Ryan asked beside him.

 

Stiles licked his lips and nodded, staring out the window. "Yeah. It just sucks that we have to get all serious now. I was really enjoying my escape from reality. All this crazy stuff is just happening and I know I need to let you know so you can be aware and try to stay safe it's just...it sucks."

 

Ryan watched him a moment, nodding as if he understood. "I'm still having trouble understanding that all this stuff is real. It's almost too much to handle. When you guys first told me all I could do was panic. I felt like I could never look at anything or anyone the same anymore. It was...concerning. But at the same time, I'd rather be aware and able to protect myself than valuable. So don't ever feel bad about me knowing. You didn't force any of this on me, Stiles." Stiles nodded after a moment, running a hand over his face. "It's just...this thing is so different than anything we've ever faced. We still don't know how we're going to take care of it yet. I just don't want anything to happen to you." "I'm glad." Ryan gave a flirty grin. "I want to kiss you again at least once before I die." Stiles snorted, shaking his head and trying to hide a grin. "You are maniacal." He muttered before drawing straight and clearing his throat. "So, this is a lot to take in. You sure you're ready?" "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose." Stiles nodded, and then told Ryan everything he knew about what they were up against. As he spoke, he felt the knot in his stomach growing, because, honestly, although they now knew what they were up against, it still hadn't really solved anything. Stiles sickeningly felt like everything they had gone through to talk to the Seer had been a complete waste of time. Which wasn't exactly true, he knew that at least. But it was just so infuriating not knowing what to do. Not knowing how to keep everyone safe. When he was finally done talking, Ryan was sitting beside him with a slightly shell shocked expression, and Stiles knew it well. He was still going through it. "That's- I don't...." Ryan shook his head, his eyes wide. "It's just so horrible." Stiles nodded silently, staring outside the Jeep. "It's Beacon Hills." He finally muttered. Ryan turned to him with a slight frown and he cleared his throat. "Lot's of...bad things happen in Beacon Hills. Lot's of supernatural things. It's almost like this town is a magnet for negativity." He couldn't help the snarkiness in his tone, his lip twisted slightly in disgust. Ryan stared at him a long moment, as if Stiles were a puzzle he were trying to piece together. "If you hate it so much here, why don't you leave?"

 

Stiles turned to him with slight surprise. No one had ever asked him that before. Whenever he and Scott talked about the future, it was clear that Scott was never going to leave Beacon Hills. Or not soon at least. The Alpha thought his place was there. Thought that Beacon Hills needed his protection. Which, Stiles guessed it did. But him? Stiles had never planed to stay there forever. He had always wanted to leave eventually, making his own place in the world. And now after everything that had happened to him here, he felt even more eager to leave. They were in their senior year. Graduation was approaching, and approaching fast. "That was always the plan." Stiles muttered.

 

"And now?"

 

He sighed, scratching at his eyebrow. "Now I feel like if I tell Scott and the other's I want to leave after graduation, they'll feel like I've betrayed them." And it was true. He had never said it aloud, even to himself. But it was how he felt. 

 

"They're your friends, though. Don't you think they'd understand?"

 

"I don't know." He answered honestly. Derek had up and left so many freaking times over the years, and while Stiles had always tried to play it off like he didn't care, he always had. Had always felt betrayed. It seemed only natural they would feel the same if he were to do so. Stiles realized the whole situation made him incredibly hypocritical, but he just couldn't help it. If anything, he now understood Derek always leaving. 

 

"What about you?" Ryan asked then, and Stiles turned to him with a slight frown. "Do you feel like you'd be betraying them if you left?"

 

Once again Stiles was caught off guard. He blinked at Ryan a few times, before releasing a short, bitter laugh. "Dude. You should totally peruse a career as a therapist."

 

Ryan smiled softly, laying his head back on the seat and looking at Stiles. "I just want to get to know you, Stiles."

 

Stiles felt himself blush slightly and looked downwards at his hands in his lap. "You're one of the few."

 

"Everyone you've known has been idiots, apparently. I'm not so blind as them." 

 

Stiles grew even more red, giving a nervous laugh and peeking over at Ryan. "Why do you like me so much anyways? What did you see in me that first day?"

 

"I like you because you're hilarious, Stiles. Even though most of the time it's in an awkward way. But it's more than that. You've got a pure soul. I can see it as clear as day."

 

Stiles' eyes widened slightly before he snorted, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Dude. That's....wow..."

 

Ryan chuckled softly. "I'm not lying. There's just something...bright- inside of you. And as for what I saw when I first met you; do you want me to be honest or flirty?" Ryan waggled his eyebrows and Stiles rolled his eyes.

 

"Can't I have both?"

 

"Only you, Stiles. Only you." He grinned big. "I saw someone completely adorable that I just wanted to mess with and watch twitch."

 

Stiles struggled with words a moment, mumbling incoherently, which only made Ryan grin more. "Oh wow. Okay. So..was that the honest or flirty part?"

 

"Flirty." Ryan said, showcasing that winning dimple again with a grin.

 

"Oh. Well. I appreciate your honestly. Eh - your...flirty honesty?"

 

Ryan laughed, rolling his eyes. "Thanks." He looked at Stiles a moment longer before his smile slowly fell and a serious look came across his face. "But as for the other one? I saw someone who was sad."

 

Stiles twitched at the word, glancing sideways but not really meeting Ryan's eyes. "What do you mean?"

 

Ryan sighed, sitting back and staring out the windshield a moment before speaking. "Back in Ireland things were...rough." He cleared his throat before beginning again. "I was a foster kid, in and out of the system my whole life basically. I'd never stay at one home too long before my foster parent's got tired of me. And honestly, I didn't blame them. I was just....I was always a sad kid. I'm not sure why. Maybe it was the absence of my real parents - feeling like they must not have wanted me, but whatever it was all I know is for most of my childhood I was in a real dark place. I just felt so...empty all the time. When I was around fourteen it suddenly struck me that the only way I was ever going to be happy, or at least resemble something happy, was if I faked it. I knew that no one wanted some kid who did nothing but sit in corners all day. Not talking. Hardly even  _existing_. So I started smiling, even though I hated it. I made myself talk more. Tried to be...normal. Or at least look normal. And it worked." Ryan drew in a deep breath, laughing a bit. "I got placed with family and stayed with them until I was seventeen. They were good people." He drew off, his eyes a bit distance. "They really tried hard to make me feel comfortable. To feel like I was a part of their family. All of the previous foster homes I had been sent to, everyone there would kind of look at me this certain way. I'm not even sure if they knew it. It was just...off. Like they couldn't fully commit to having me in their family. Even if they tried. But not the Aherne's. From the very beginning the look in their eyes was something so...honest. I'm not saying they were perfect, by any means. A lot of the times they had no idea what they were doing. They didn't have any other kids, so didn't have a lot of experience. And then the fact that I was a foster kid in the first place I know didn't help. But no matter what they've push through and keep going. I really respected that about them." Ryan cleared his throat again, casting a small smile over to Stiles, who was watching him intently. "But anyways. When I first saw you, I recognized that same look that I had back then. When I was forcing myself to appear happy, even though inside I didn't feel it. And I guess I felt like I couldn't just leave you alone. That I wanted you to be happy because you  _were_ , not because you felt like you had to be."

 

Stiles looked at Ryan, his eyes shifting with emotion. "I'm sorry that things were so bad for you in the beginning." He finally whispered.

 

Ryan gave a slight smile, a bit of a sad grin on his face. "So am I. But I'm better now."

 

Stiles nodded, swallowing a few times before looking away. A silence fell over them, but it was a filled silence. A waiting silence. One where you knew someone was just trying to get themselves together before speaking again. To steady their raw emotions so they wouldn't have a break down when they spoke again. "Not too long ago some...some pretty bad stuff happened with me. It kind of...left a mark on me. One that I'm going to have forever. Bad things happened..." Stiles let out a shaky breath. "People...died. A lot of people. For a long time I kind of just...closed myself off to everything. For a while there I thought that I had ruined a lot of things with the people I care about. I just felt so fucking  _guilty_. I hated myself. I felt like I wasn't good enough anymore, and that everyone else would be better off without me." Stiles clenched his hand in the material of his jeans, trying to calm himself. "But luckily someone was there to..well, kick my ass basically." He gave a weak laugh. "They made me see how selfish I had been. It's not...completely better. Not yet. But I know every day get's me a little closer."

 

Stiles gave a slight nod, staring down at his hands. It had been so incredibly hard to admit that to someone who wasn't 'pack', but now that he had, he realized how good it had felt. Maybe it was because Ryan could understand him in a sense. Maybe he had just really needed to say it, either way, he felt slightly better after doing so. Suddenly Ryan's hand was curling around his jaw then, and Stiles felt his face being turned. He looked up with wide eyes to find Ryan's face directly in front of his own. Stiles licked his lips immediately on instinct, and that seemed to have been all the sign Ryan needed because then his lips were pressing against Stiles. Stiles stilled, and after a moment closed his eyes as Ryan pressed soft, gentle kisses against his lips. He felt a tongue trace the seam of his lips then and stiffened slightly, before hesitantly opening his mouth and then Ryan's tongue was tracing the inside of his lips and Stiles lifted his hand to curl it around Ryan's neck. He pressed his tongue against Ryan's tentatively, still not really sure with himself when it came to kissing another guy. Ryan didn't seem to be in a hurry though, and they sat there a moment, lazily kissing each other until Stiles finally pulled away to breathe. He and Ryan stared at each other a moment, both a little shy and embarrassed. 

 

"I don't think I've ever seen you blush so hard." Ryan finally said with a grin.

 

Stiles felt his face scorch even hotter and he turned away with a grumble. "Oh shut up."

 

Ryan laughed fully beside him, leaning over and pushing him a bit with his shoulder. "Don't act like you didn't like it."

 

"I liked it, I liked it." Stiles muttered before his phone suddenly went off. He jumped slightly, gave an apologetic grin to Ryan, and then fished it from his pocket. After reading a message he cleared his throat. "Oh uh, yeah I have to go." He pouted slightly.

 

Ryan sighed dramatically beside him. "Story of my life. Just when it was getting good." Ryan wagged his brows at Stiles. "And just when I thought I was going to see if that shirt held any truth."

 

"Huh? What?-Oh my god get out of my car you're trying to kill me!"

 

Ryan held up his hands, laughing, before hopping out of the Jeep, making sure to wink at Stiles. "I'll see you tomorrow."

 

Stiles rolled his eyes, but couldn't really keep the grin from his face as he shoo'd Ryan away and started up his Jeep. As he drove towards his house, though, he couldn't help but notice the slight ache in his chest. It felt...empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello all my beauties :) I bare bad news. Well maybe. I'm not sure yet lol
> 
> I will be taking a road trip tomorrow to visit some fun loving people and will be gone all weekend. That may mean I may not get a chapter in until monday or tuesday :( i know i know. What ever shall you do. I'll try my best to get some time to myself to add a chapter (hopefully two *crosses fingers*). I'll drug everyone if i have to O_O just wanted to let you guys know.
> 
> Also wanted to say that the story only has about 10 or so more chapters...maybe lol it could be slightly more. But after that I start the 2nd half and just as a spoiler I was gonna let you guys know I'm planning on bringing back someone who i freaking adored from TW. I can't wait to start.


	32. Protocols

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OMG guys i have tried to add this chapter the past few days but i have literally only had 20 minutes alone at a time lol It has been an incredibly awesome few days filled with mostly drunken stupor's but also lot's of just lazing around with some old friends. I should be heading back home in the morning, but I'll try and get another chapter in tonight if possible. Thanks for being patient guys!

Stiles stared at his dad with great irritation, and yet somehow so incredibly aware of where his own tendency of denial came from. For the past fifteen minutes John Stilinski had been adamantly refusing the idea of he and Scott's mom staying with one another until this was all over. The man had kept throwing out excuses such as 'it's not proper' and 'people always talk in this town'; when they both knew the real reason was because John was currently in the more mature stages of a major crush with Melissa. Stiles had noticed it a while back whenever his dad was around Melissa. It was easily readable in his body language. The way when Melissa was in a room he would always seem to brighten slightly. The way his body would automatically move to keep her facing him, no matter where she stood. Stiles had seen it in the awkwardly long lingered stares and unfortunately the few times his dad had actually blushed whenever Melissa would just be herself and touch him innocently; laying a hand on his arm or shoulder. Stiles had always ignored it, knowing his dad a grown man who was capable of doing whatever he felt/wanted to be done. Which was apparently nothing. Because John had never made a move. Not once.

 

 

But the fact that his dad could allow something so silly as a crush to hinder him from something that could potentially keep Melissa safe? Well, it was really started to peeve Stiles. "Okay, dad, so do you really think that Scott's nosey next door neighbor starting some rumors is more important than keeping his mom safe? Because if you do then I'm not entirely sure we're even related."

 

 

 

 

John cursed sharply, looking actually offended by Stiles words. "Of course not! I just - I can't just - I mean how does Melissa even feel about all of this! I'm sure she doesn't want me hanging around her house for god knows how long, Stiles. Some people actually do like their privacy you know."

 

 

Stiles held up his hand. "Okay, I'm going to stop you right there. Since when have you understood the concept of privacy? Did you know if I had a dollar for every time you barged into my room while I was jer-"

 

 

"STILES!"

 

 

"What?! I'm just stating the obvious here!" Stiles sighed and threw up his hands. "Dude I'm sorry but there's no other way around it! I  _need_  you guys to do this, okay? I can't be worried about you, dad."

 

 

John twitched angrily at that, moving in on Stiles with stiff shoulders. " _You_ can't be worried about  _me_? Who do you think you are, Stiles? Last time I checked I was the parent, not you. And the fact that you tell me this godawful thing is out there killing and infection people - and you want me to just be okay with the idea of not being there to protect you? No, Stiles. You don't get to tell me that! You are my  _son_. I am supposed to be taking care of you."

 

 

"What about Melissa then, do you not care enough to protect her?"

 

 

"Of course I do! That woman has been there for the  _both_  of us when we truly needed it. But dammit Stiles, she isn't  _you,_  and I refuse to loose you too!" The Sheriff all but yelled, before swinging around to gather himself, sitting a hand down on the back of the couch and dragging in deep breathes.

 

 

Stiles felt all of the frustration seep out of him to be replaced fully by guilt. God he was such an ass. And what was so bad was the fact that he did this so many times. Every time something big hit Beacon HIlls, he would always stick his dad in a corner somewhere. It wasn't because he didn't care, though. He was just so horrified of losing him that he wanted him to be as far away from everything as possible. Stiles wasn't so childish as to think that he, Scott, Derek and everyone else were invincible. They had seen too much death for that. But it was that inevitably of mortality that scared the shit out of him. He could  _not_  have his father around them whenever they were in the middle of something. Which is what they were. And even though they had no idea who the Slaugh was, Stiles knew without a doubt that they would see the creature again sooner or later. They were all just that lucky. And when that time came, Stiles didn't want John to be there. It was because of this consuming fear, though, that Stiles could also understand his dad wanted the exact same thing. Which was normal. As often as Stiles seemed to think otherwise, John  _was_  the parent. Hell Stiles was still  _underage._  He knew that he had no right to treat his father like he was a liability, let alone make him feel that way. But it was the only way Stiles knew he would be okay.

 

 

"Dad...hey. I'm sorry. You're right." He placed a hand on his dad's stiff shoulders, sighing. "I know I shouldn't be asking this. I get that you're worried about me. But I'm worried about you too. And Scott is worried about Melissa. There is no one that can stay with her. No one else that knows what this thing really is. And I already told you. Everyone is going to stay together at Derek's loft until we stop this thing. We're watching out for each other, dad. Now we need you to watch out for Scott's mom, too."

 

 

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" John scrubbed a hand over his face and turned to look at his son, his gaze searching a long moment. What he saw was a man. Someone hardened by past experiences and though Stiles' immaturity level was highly questionable, John knew that when it mattered, he put on his 'big boy' shoes like was needed. It was the fact that Stiles was still only 17 though, that really ate at him, and while it was true that his birthday was only months away, he was still supposed to be a  _kid_ ; and looking at him now, John desperately tried to find that child once again.

 

 

"Dad...I'm going to be okay. We're going to work this out." Stiles said softly, reassuringly.

 

 

John shook his head after a moment, before pulling his son in for a half hug, patting him on the back. "Look. I know that you guys think you're immortal or something like that, but you're not. Okay?  _None of you_. If anything happens, and I do mean anything, swear to me that you will call me, Stiles."

 

 

Stiles nodded, pulling away. "I will dad. Don't be so worried, yeah? You're just crashing at Melissa's a few days. It's not like I'm not going to see you. And while Derek may cook a mean burger I'm going to need some real food sooner or later, you know?"

 

 

His dad arched a brow at that. "Since when did Derek Hale start making you dinner?"

 

 

Stiles felt his face shoot painfully red and tried to fake how flustered he had become by rolling his eyes. "Oh come on dad.  The Pack practically lives there these past few weeks. We've got to eat too you know."

 

 

"Umhmm. And this  _thing_  between you and Derek. What's going on with that, now?"

 

 

"Oh my - jesus when you say it like that. Nothing, dad. Okay? It's just...nothing's going on." He tilted his head a bit then. "Well, except we're pretty sure I'm somehow leeching some of his werewolf powers and becoming only more badass than I already am. But that's about it."

 

 

It was his father's turn to roll his eyes with a sigh. "Just what we need. Please tell me you're not going to get all furry now are you?"

 

 

The unexpected question was one that Stiles had never considered or even thought about, but now that it was out there, Stiles found himself panicking. "Oh my - what if...jesus I never even! Dad am I going to - oh MY GOD! I don't want to get all furry face!" He practically screeched, his hands up close to his face and hovering, as if he were imagining in his head.

 

 

"Wait..is this a real possibility, Stiles!? Are you going to...are you a  _werewolf_  now?"

 

 

"No! No I'm not. At least I don't think I am. Oh god dad I'm freaking out what am I going to do?!" Stiles retreated until his back hit the wall, and he stood there shaking, his wide eyes darting around the room. "I need to talk to Deaton. Like, now!"

 

 

"Okay, son. It's okay. We're going to work this out." John laid his hand on Stiles' back, rubbing him gently as Stiles' sucked in deep breaths, bent over, hands on his knees. "Just breathe, okay? You need to breathe."

 

 

Stiles lifted a hand blindly, trying to grab onto something, anything, as his throat began to close up and his vision to blur. He felt his dad grab his hand and bring it close to his chest, his words soft and helpful, but Stiles couldn't hear them anymore. A loud, deafening static was blaring in his head, and his skull hurt from the intensity of it. He didn't want to be a werewolf. Not truly, even though he might have understood the benefit's from it. But could this  _thing_  that was between him and Derek mean that come the next full moon, which was only a little over two weeks away, he would be out there somewhere running around like a mindless beast howling at the damned moon?! Just thinking about it made his heart hitch even more and he felt his body sliding down the wall. He wasn't sure how long he sat there, the world spinning around him, before suddenly he felt warmth blossoming in his chest. He grunt and jerked in slight surprise, the warmth spilling over his chest in waves and down his long, lean limbs, until it felt like his entire body was swimming in it. A sense of calm quickly followed the warmth, and it trickled over Stiles like a whisper across his skin. The raging in his ears lessened, and then faded completely. The world ceased to spin. And his heart beat found a more slower, normal rythmm, his breath slowed as well. 

 

 

Stiles blinked his eyes open, looking up to find his dad crouched in front of him, his face etched with worry. Lifting a hand to his chest he rubbed at it with a frown, and with trembling feet stood. 

 

 

"Stiles? You okay?" John had his hand tight on Stiles' arm as he looked him over. "You were having a pretty bad attack there. How are you feeling?"

 

 

"I'm...yeah I'm fine. I'm sorry." Stiles' voice was small, distracted.

 

 

"Are you sure?" 

 

 

Realizing that he was just standing there staring into nothing Stiles cleared his throat and nodded, looking fully at his dad now. "Yeah. Sorry. I'm good though. Promise."

 

 

His dad stared at him a long moment before eventually nodding. "Alright. Well I'm going to go upstairs and pack some stuff."

 

 

Stiles grinned and gave his dad a finger gun. "Yeah. Pack! That's a great idea. Be sure to pack your...stuff....Dad.....yup."

 

 

John deadpanned him a moment longer before shaking his head and turning to head up the stairs. Stiles phone suddenly started ringing in his pocket, and he jumped, fumbling around awkwardly before digging it out and staring down at it a long moment before ignoring the call and slipping it back. Heading up the stairs after his dad he made his way to his own room and started packing some things to take with him to the loft. As he was throwing some clothes into a suitcase his phone went off yet again and he swore softly, checking it quickly and then tossing it to the bed. He stood there, staring at it as it rang.

 

 

"You gonna answer that?" 

 

 

Stiles swung around to look at his father, his mouth gaping open a moment. "Uh, nah. It's not important."

 

 

John frowned. "Well who is it?"

 

 

"Uh. Derek?'

 

 

"Okay. And why are you avoiding his calls?"

 

 

Stiles balked, shaking his head a bit too forcefully. "What? I'm not- why would I....what?"

 

 

John rolled his eyes. "Stiles. I'm not an idiot, you know. I know damn well when you're avoiding someone."

 

 

Stiles sighed, running a hand over his face. "It's just complicated dad."

 

 

John stood there a moment, seemingly considering what to do next. And then he was moving forward, coming to sit on the bed in front of Stiles, looking up at his son with an open, honest expression. Looking down at him, Stiles realized that he could not deny him the same. "Things are just...a little weird now with this link between Derek and I. Or at least it is for me." He added with a sigh, coming to sit down beside his dad.

 

 

John nodded slightly, his gaze straight ahead. "And when you say weird..."

 

 

"Just earlier, downstairs when I was having my attack. I - somehow I felt Derek there with me. Through the link. It was like he was....doing something. Calming me somehow and everything just felt fine again. And I'm really starting to freak out because I keep  _feeling_  things and I don't know what to do about it or even if I should. This could all be perfectly normal! I'm just...I'm kind of scared what it might mean. And honestly if it's like this now I'm scared of how much more it's going to be and dad I just don't think I can do this!" Stiles hadn't realized he had been rocking back and forth slightly until his dad placed a stilling hand on his shoulder, halting his movements. Stiles cringed, turning to look at his father and found him watching him worriedly.

 

 

"Stiles what feelings? Does it hurt? Are you in any pain?"

 

 

Stiles wrapped his arms tight around his middle, looking away as he shook his hand. "No it's nothing like that."

 

 

"Then what is it, Stiles? What are you feeling?" As soon as John asked the question a suddenly look of understanding came over him, and his mouth hung open a moment, while he blinked rapidly. "Oh...you mean....as in..."

 

 

Stiles turned away with a groan, feeling like he wanted to crawl in a hole and die. "I'm not saying I suddenly...it's not like I'm- AH! This is so damned annoying! I feel like this freaking link is messing with my emotions somehow because every time I'm around him I keep feeling weird and very very wrong and awkward things happen, Dad and I can't keep doing it!"

 

 

It was John's turn to groan and cover his face. "Jesus Stiles I don't want to hear about those wrong and awkward things for the love of God please stop there."

 

 

Stiles stared at the floor in utter defeat. He didn't dare tell his dad that those 'wrong and awkward things' had happened before the link as well. Didn't think he could quite face what the possibility of that could be. Stiles had no trouble admitting that some part of him obviously found Derek attractive. But as for the other things? The way his heart pounded in his chest. How he always somehow found his eyes drawn to. But more importantly how within these past few weeks, Derek had somehow become more important than any of his other friends. More important than Scott. And that was a feat unto itself. There were so many questions left unanswered (mainly because he refused to dwell on them too long), but he suddenly felt like he needed to honestly take the time to figure out what was going on in his head.  "Regardless, I'm going to talk to Deaton. Find out if this link between us could be making some of this stuff happen. And more importantly if I'm going to wolf out the next full moon. Jesus I really hope not. I mean come on. I have very delicate features here! Knowing me I'll just look like a weird man kitty or something.  And then everyone will just laugh at me. It will be a whole big deal and I'm just not ready to commit to that, you know."

 

 

John shook his head with a small grin that said 'only my son' and ruffled Stiles' hair annoyingly. "Well I'm sure, whatever happens, you'll be okay. You're a Stilinski. We don't give up."

 

 

"Yeah. You're right." Stiles bumped his dad's shoulder with his own before heaving a heavy sigh. "Alright, alright. Go finish packing so I can clear out my secret porn stash."

 

 

John rolled his eyes before standing and with a final grin returning to his bedroom. Stiles stared after him a moment, with a small smile on his face before releasing a sigh and standing up, finishing packing.

 

 

*****************************

 

 

 

"I'm totally not going to beat around the bush, dude. This is going to happen, rather you like it or not. I give it a week tops."

 

 

Scott tossed a couch pillow at him yet again, and like the other three Stiles just buffered it away with a laugh. "Dude! Stop talking about our parents hooking up!" Scott cringed painfully.

 

 

"I'm just being practical. You can't tell me you didn't see that moment they just had. That long lingering look. That awkward yet excited little laugh. Actually, for all we know your mom could be jumping my dad upstairs now."

 

 

This time a pillow was not enough to shut his mouth, and Scott jumped over the back of the couch, tackling Stiles. Stiles fell off of the couch with a laugh, the two of them rolling around a bit on the floor. Stiles was singing out loudly 'John and Melissa sitting in the tree' and Scott was trying to clamp a hand over his mouth.

 

 

"Alright guys break it up before you destroy something." John called gruffly, coming back down the stairs of the McCall house, Melissa following close behind. She was in some scrubs and had her curly hair atop her head. A small grin was on her face though and she was rolling her eyes at Stiles and Scott.

 

 

They broke apart immediately. Or really after Stiles had licked Scott's palm and the werewolf had jerked away like it was the most disgusting thing in the world. Apparently Stiles had cooties. 

 

 

"Okay so what's the plan, guys?" Scott asked, rubbing his hand on his pants and coming around the couch to look at his mom and Stiles dad.

 

 

"Well we both have shifts that start soon." Melissa said with a shrug, looking over at John who nodded. "But we've both decided that as long as we don't fall asleep alone then everything should be fine."

 

 

Stiles nodded. "Do whatever you have to to stay awake, okay? At least until the both of you are here. And then just do like we had planned and take shifts sleeping. Don't forget you have to be in the same room though! Ow! Scott dammit I was being serious. It's for their safety." Stiles rubbed his arm with a glare at Scott, while John and Melissa figited a bit uncomfortably on their feet. "And be sure to put the herb pouch Deaton made under your pillow also. We don't know exactly if it will work or not, but it can't hurt to try, right?" 

 

 

Melissa nodded, looking at Scott with worried eyes before pulling him in for a tight hug. "Are you sure that you guys can't stay with us?"

 

 

"Mom, we're stronger as a pack. And I have a feeling that since we've seen this thing now it's going to show up again."

 

 

"That is how these things tend to go." Stiles muttered, trying not to feel too pained by the way Melissa held onto Scott for dear life. God he missed that. Missed having a mother to worry about him. When Melissa turned to him then and pulled him in for a smothering hug as well Stiles couldn't help but smile slightly as he hugged her back. Melissa may not be related to him by blood, but she had been there for him and his father so much over the years, and with how often Stiles had spent at Scott's house as a kid, in a way she was kind of like a stepmom already. He gripped her tighter, laying his chin on her head and shut his eyes, allowing himself to be calmed by her loving, motherly nature. Standing there, he secretly did wish that his dad would make a move on her. Melissa was an amazing woman who had been through a lot. She deserved something good. As did his dad.

 

 

Melissa pressed a kiss to his forehead before pulling away. "I want you two to promise me you will be safe, okay? Don't do anything stupid and brave."

 

 

Stiles gave her a cocky grin. "Don't you know those are my middle names? Come on Ms. McCall."

 

 

Melissa shook her head with a smile and returned to give Scott one last embarrassing kiss that had his cheeks blushing slightly. "I love you, kid. You know that right?"

 

 

Scott grumbled, but looked entirely pleased. "Yeah I know. Love you too mom."

 

 

John laid a hand on Stiles' shoulder. "Now I know you're going to be stupid and brave no matter what either of us say, but at least tell me you'll think of yourself as well, okay?"

 

 

Stiles nodded with a smile. "I'll do my best."

 

 

Realizing that was the best he was going to get, John sighed before turning to place a hand on the small of Melissa's back. "Well, we've got to get to work. Don't forget that you two still have school tomorrow. No staying up late, you got it?" With one last warning glare to them both John and Melissa left the house, leaving Scott and Stiles standing in the living room.

 

 

 "They're going to be okay, right?" Scott spoke up against the stifling quiet of the house a moment later.

 

 

"Yeah." Stiles said softly.  _I hope_. He added to himself. Because the fact was they were facing something they had never before encountered. Something that was confusing and terrifying and new. And they still didn't know how to defeat it. In all honesty, Stiles  _didn't_ know if John and Melissa were going to be okay. He didn't know if any of them were. And he had a feeling Scott felt the same way, and they were both just to afraid to voice it. _  
_  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol a friend told me earlier that every chapter I add is like watching an episode of Game of Thrones. So much, and nothing happens all at once. Not sure how I feel about that :/


	33. Pack Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles talks with Deaton about how the bond between he and Derek could possibly be affecting him

By the time Scott had eventually agreed to let Stiles make a solo pit stop by Deaton's, Stiles had used up pretty much all of his persuasion tactics and for once in his entire life he was tired of talking. Yeah. Real shocker for him too. After climbing out of his jeep Stiles stood in front of the clinic a long moment, wringing his hands and trying to overcome a sudden bout of nervousness. He knew that he needed to talk to Deaton, that it was actually very important that he did. He was just kind of terrified of what the man would tell him. What if the link  _was_  screwing with his head? The thing was forever. What was he supposed to do? It wasn't like they could just reverse it. So was he just supposed to accept the fact that he was going to have a permanent hard on for Derek? The thought was enough to make him shiver. Jeez he had pinned for Lydia nearly half of his life. He wasn't ready to go through that all again. Then again, this was different from Lydia, wasn't it? While he had been pretty much obsessed with her, it had been more in a desperate/pathetic adoration way. Enthralled by her very presence. Stiles had looked at her as something unattainable and heavenly. Something above his own sad human existence. Strangely enough, all those years of adoring her, he had never really thought of her in a sexual way. Well, yeah sure he had often envisioned himself kissing her. Small touches, like brushing that gorgeous hair from her face or over her shoulder. But anything else? Nada. In some strange way it had almost been as if to think about her like that was to degrade her, and he had never wanted that. But with Derek? Jesus. Think he did. Quite often. So much in fact that whenever Stiles found himself alone and aching, needing some 'Stiles time', somehow the damned werewolf always drifting into his fantasies. It was highly embarrassing and the fact that Stiles usually came the second Derek entered his thoughts only made him feel even more so. The fact of the matter was that Stiles had not actually masturbated in a long time. Like...a  _long_  time. And he'd be lying if he said it wasn't because he didn't know if he could handle the fact that the last few times he had, Derek hadn't just  _slipped_  into his mind, but Stiles had focused the act on him alone. It was....too much. Way too much. 

 

Realizing that he was standing outside thinking about masturbating like a weirdo Stiles kicked himself into motion and entered the clinic at last. There were a few people sitting in the waiting room, and Stiles grinned down at a dog that automatically crowded his legs and tried it's best to knock him over. The owner apologized immediately, pulling the dog away but Stiles just grinned easily. He was opening his mouth to let the guy know it was okay when someone was calling his name behind him. Turning Stiles found Deaton standing at the door that lead back to the rooms, a slight frown on his face.

 

Stiles cleared his throat. "Hey there, Doc. I was just wondering if you had any free time?"

 

Deaton frowned at Stiles before looking down at his watch. "Well I was actually going to take a break. You can walk with me if you wish."

 

Stiles nodded eagerly and waited for Deaton to cross the room before following him. They walked outside and started down the street, neither speaking. Stiles was still a little too nervous to break the silence and just followed the Druid until they entered a little coffee shop on the corner of the street. Stiles followed Deaton in and to the counter, watching as the man ordered a lemon ginger tea and unable to keep the look of disgust from his face. Gross. No wonder the man was so stoic and unreadable. He was drinking the nastiest, most boring beverage on the face of the earth. Most likely every day. The girl behind the counter turned to him then and after a long mutted moment Stiles realized she was waiting for him to add his order. Stiles gave a little flail and quickly scanned the chalk board menu. "Uh, I'll just have theeeeeeeeeee....white chocolate truffle latte." The girl nodded with a small smile and added it to the register. Stiles looked at Deaton to find the man staring at him with an arched brow. "What?! It's chocolate dude. Everyone loves chocolate. Don't look at me like I'm some kid." He muttered before crossing his arms over his chest and swinging away. They stood there a while, waiting until they had gotten their drinks. When Stiles grabbed his and took a sip, releasing a deep sigh of happiness, Deaton had apparently come to the end of his patience.

 

"Stiles I assume at some point you're going to tell me what this is about?" Deaton took a sip of his tea, staring over the lid at Stiles with his unnerving gaze.

 

 

Sighing Stiles nodded and followed as Deaton found a table to sit at in the corner. Stiles shifted into the chair, feeling slightly awkward at how he was sitting so close in front of Deaton, not really able to hide. And he was really going to be wanting to hide soon. "I think something may be wrong."

 

 

Deton's frown grew. "Wrong how?"

 

 

"With the link." Stiles breathed, trying to sound easy breezy but unable to contain the shakiness of his voice.

 

 

"And why do you feel that?" Deaton's eyes lifted to Stiles hair before he spoke again. "I see that there are no physical traces of the Slaugh. Are you having internal issues again?"

 

 

Stiles snorted at that. "Oh I'm having internal issues alright." He muttered before taking a too large swig of his coffee, the burn scorching his throat, but he forced himself to swallow. Deaton's only retort was to blink a few slow times, eyes locked on Stiles, waiting. Groaning Stiles scrubbed a hand over his face. "Okay I know you said that you weren't sure what all the link between Derek and us would entail, but you've got to have some kind of idea at least, right? I mean give me something to work with here, man."

 

 

Deaton sat back with a sigh. "I assume you're experiencing something that's making you a bit uncomfortable?"

 

 

Stiles nodded on a hard swallow. "Yeah. You could say that."

 

 

"Well, as I said there are various possibilities. But Stiles you have to understand, the link that was created between Derek and you was not only a way to anchor you to your humanity, but a conduit to strengthen the ties already between the two of you. So whatever you may have felt for Derek before the ritual, those feelings will have been enhanced as well."

 

 

Stiles choked on the swallow of coffee he had just sipped. He sat there a moment hacking and heaving, bent over and gripping his chest with wide eyes. When he could finally breath again he stared up at Deaton with a pained expression. "What?! Why the hell did you not tell us that to begin with?"

 

 

Deaton gave a slight shug, indifferent, and in that moment Stiles really hated the bastard. "I didn't think it would matter. Derek was adamant in his decision to help you." Deaton looked up at Stiles then, his eyes piercing and more than a little unnerving. "I'm guessing that you're a little overwhelmed by your own emotions?"

 

 

"Overwhelmed?!" Stiles snorted, running his hands messily through his hair. "Dude I'm thinking and feeling things I have no right to be thinking and feeling! And it's just getting worse! We have to find a way to stop this before Derek realizes what's going on because oh my god I really can't deal with that I'd rather kill myself to be honest!!!" Stiles sucked in a deep gulp of air after his little heated rant, his hands shaking slightly.

 

 

"I'm afraid there is no way to stop it, Stiles. Plus, as I said, anything you are feeling now was already there to begin with. It's just more...focused now."

 

 

Stiles cried out a bit angrily at that. "Dude! I don't care what you say I didn't feel  _anything_ like this before. And as if my sudden hard on for Derek wasn't enough, I've somehow tapped into his werewolf powers which is great and all but what does that even mean?! Am I going to go full furry this next full moon?"

 

 

Deaton perked up at that, his eyes narrowing. "Wait, you and Derek share powers now as well?" He looked away rubbing a hand over his mouth in thought. Stiles nodded in a jerky motion but the man wasn't even paying attention to him so it was lost anyways. "I've never thought of the possibility of that. And honestly from the few accounts of the ritual I have read, nothing like this has happened either."

 

 

"Oh great! This is just - ah! Fabulous!" 

 

 

"Indeed." Deaton nodded as if he hadn't been aware Stiles was being sarcastic. "I'll have to do more research on the ritual. Go back through my notes and see if there any accounts like this. You share all of his werewolf powers?"

 

 

"Not all. I can't heal. But I'm stronger and faster but I don't care about any of that! Deaton what happens on the full moon? Am I going to change?"

 

 

Deaton thought a moment before shaking his head. "I wouldn't think so. While it's true that you may be sharing his strength and similar qualities the fact that you don't have his ability to heal makes it seem unlikely. Healing is a werewolf ability that coincides with a wolf's own inner magic, as is the shift. It appears that you are just sharing the most basic abilities of that of a werewolf. I wouldn't be too worried, Mr. Stilinski." Deaton gave a slight nod, but Stiles couldn't help but notice the way his eyes were a bit shifty. His shoulders a little too tense. "As for your other issues, I wouldn't worry about it too much. These things are to be expected. If you feel that uncomfortable, maybe you should talk with Derek about it. He may be feeling the same. Actually, it's more than likely he is." The Druid added with a very slight grin and Stiles couldn't help but feel like he was hiding some secret.

 

 

"You're joking, right? No way in hell am I going to tell Derek that I - ah hell I can't even say it." Stiles groaned again, shutting his eyes. "Just...are you sure there's nothing you can do to stop this?"

 

 

"Unfortunately not. So either you learn to live with it, or you share your thoughts with Derek and maybe the two of you can find a better understanding. In the very least maybe things won't be so uncomfortable for you anymore."

 

 

Stiles gave a small sigh but nodded. Deaton leaned over then to pull a large cloth bag from a black leather messenger bag sitting at his feet then, and handed it to Stiles, who stared at it with a frown. "What's this?"

 

 

"It's more sleep pouches. Enough for the pack and then more for whomever you deem fit."

 

 

Stiles glared at that. Whomever he deemed fit? He deemed the entire town fit, but Stiles understood that he couldn't just stand on a street corner passing out the herbal pouches. Well he could, but people would just look at him like he was a weirdo.

 

 

"I'm still very curious as to how you all figured out what the creature was."

 

 

Stiles looked up to find Deaton watching him with narrowed eyes filled with far too much wisdom and precision. He looked away, afraid that the man would see right through him. "Yeah well we got lucky. After we saw it that first time something about it stroke a memory of mine from a long time ago, when I was searching online. It took a long time to find anything that fit what the creature could possibly be, and the information was so slim that it was almost nonexistence. I'm still having trouble getting information on the thing."

 

 

Deaton watched him a moment longer but nodded in the end. Stiles didn't think he had heard the last of the discussion, though, and suddenly wanted to get away from the man before he broke and spilled everything. Clearing his throat he stood. "Alright, well. Thanks for the talk, I guess. I'll see you around, yeah?"

 

 

Deaton nodded as Stiles turned to go. "And Stiles-" Stiles turned back to him with a slight frown. "Tell Derek. You may be surprised by what you discover."

 

 

After a moment Stiles turned and left the shop.

 

 

 

 

***************************************************************************************************

 

 

 

 

When Stiles returned to the Loft the sun was beginning to set over the horizon. Scott met him at the door of the loft, looking him over to make sure he was okay before releasing a sigh of relief. "Dude. Took you long enough I was starting to worry."

 

 

"Yeah, sorry. I'm okay though." Stiles didn't have to look at Scott's face to know that his friend had caught the lie, and he sighed. "Well, I haven't run into any billowing smoke monster, at least."

 

 

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Scott asked softly, moving to stand more firmly against him until their shoulders were touching as they moved into the loft.

 

 

"I'm just tired." And that was the truth. "How is everyone?"

 

 

"Derek's been on a rampage. Dude why aren't you answering his calls or text's? He's pretty pissed off."

 

 

Stiles groaned and pulled his phone from his pocket. He had put it on silent after leaving his house and saw that he had three more missed calls and a shit ton of text's from all of the pack, but most of them Derek. "Yeah, sorry. I had it on silent. Didn't want to be interrupted while I was with Deaton."

 

 

"Why did you go see him anyways?"

 

 

Stiles shook his head. "Sorry man. I can't really talk about it. Not yet at least. It's just...so incredibly messed up."

 

 

A look of worry came over Scott's face. "Are you okay? Is anything wrong?"

 

 

"Oh there's plenty wrong. But nothing that's going to kill me or anything. Well, maybe my pride, but that's it."

 

 

 

Scott's brow furrowed in confusion but before he could comment on that Lydia was swinging around the corner and standing in front of them, her hands on her hips. "Where have you been? We were all worried you idiot."

 

 

Stiles rolled his eyes and swung his arm around her shoulder. "Clearly. I can hear the fear in your voice so clearly."

 

 

Lydia tsked and smacked him lightly on the stomach, but laid her head briefly against his upper arm with a small smile. "You are so annoying."

 

 

"But you love me anyways." Stiles grinned down at her, reaching down to rub his cheek briefly against the top of her head. Even as he did it he realized how weird it was but figured it had to do with his shared wolfy instincts. He heard a low growl in front of him then and looked up to see Derek standing a few feet away, his arms over his chest and his eyes narrowed.

 

 

"Why the hell aren't you answering your phone?"

 

 

Stiles pulled away from Lydia and walked past Derek to the kitchen, trying very hard to ignore the way his heart picked up in his chest and son of a bit he just wanted to brush himself against the older wolf in a very embarrassing manner that would surely get him killed. "Sorry I had my phone on silent."

 

 

Derek was hot on his heels, so hot that Stiles flinched as he felt him stand directly behind him, the heat of his body surging into Stiles' back. "You do realize that we have no idea who the -" Derek drew off then, and Stiles stiffened when he heard the man sniffing the air around him and couldn't help but slink away, trying to put space between them.

 

 

"Yeah I know. Sorry, okay? I'll be more careful in the future." He muttered. He felt a hard grip on his arm and flinched slightly, freezing.

 

 

Derek drew closer, inhaling deep again, and Stiles wanted to crawl under the kitchen table when he realized what Derek was doing. Before he had time to jerk away Derek was swinging him around, his eyes blazing. 

 

 

"There is a monster lose in Beacon Hills killing and infecting people with it's darkness, and you fucking choose to meet up with someone and have sex?!"

 

 

Stiles paled and shot red all at once, finally jerking away. "I wasn't having sex!" He all but screamed, aware of the rest of the pack piling into the kitchen as well, watching them with confusion. "Jesus christ! I met up with Ryan, okay?! I had to let him know what's going on!"

 

 

"You smell like you rubbed yourself all over him!" Derek bit out, his eyes flashing blue.

 

 

"I didn't - oh my god! Are you serious right now?! We kissed, okay?  _Kissed_. I am allowed to do that, you know? I do have my own life!"

 

 

"Not when people are dying around us!" Derek bellowed, crowding closer. Stiles stubbornly stood his ground, resisting the urge to turn his head and bare his neck because no way in  _hell_ was that going to happen. He may have been sharing some werewolf abilities, but he wasn't actually a werewolf. He refused to fall into their pack mentality of status and power plays. He fucking refused. 

 

 

Sucking in a angry inhale Stiles took the remaining step forward until their chest's were almost touching, glaring up at Derek, his eyes almost golden in their brightness. "That is such bullshit and you know it! Have you  _seen_ Kira and Scott together? Or Lydia and Parrish? Hell even Malia and Liam. None of them have stopped making out with each other so why the hell am I supposed to?!" Jesus christ his chest was on  _fire_. It felt like molten lava was flowing in his veins and pooling straight at his center. Stiles found himself brimming with fury, aggravation, and strangely enough lust. And at that moment he was too mad to even care that he was more than likely sporting a slight stiffy. No matter how out of place and random it seemed. 

 

 

"Guys maybe we should just -" Scott began but was cut off as Stiles swung around to him with angry eyes.

 

 

  
"Shut up, Scott!" Stiles jerked back to Derek, drawing as straight as he could and hating the fact that the man still had about half an inch on him. "I don't know what the hell your issue is, but you need to back. off." As he spoke he lifted his hands and pushed hard at Derek's chest, and for the first time the force of his push was enough to actually make Derek stumble backwards.

 

 

Derek's eyes shot wide before narrowing to angry slits, and his gaze shifted from Stiles, to his own chest, and then to Stiles again. Almost as if he couldn't believe Stiles had actually  _dared_ to touch him.

 

 

The next thing Stiles knew Derek's was advancing on him with a growl and for the first time since their little argument Stiles felt a fleeting sense of fear flash though him. His eyes shot wide and he was about to...well, run, when suddenly a piercing scream was filling the air.

 

 

Everyone grunted and bent, clasping their hands over their ears in pain. When the scream had finally died Stiles swung around to see Lydia glaring at them both. "Dude! What the hell did you do that for?!"

 

 

"Because you're both so emotionally stunted and immature!" She hissed, stomping forward until she was between Derek and Stiles. "Are you idiots?! Wait, of course you are! What the hell are you thinking? There is a monster out there hurting people, and the two of you are having a piss fight. We are a  _pack_! We can't afford to allow ourselves to fight like this! We have to be strong than that, guys. While you and Derek may share a more intimate bond - don't look at me like that Stiles you know it's true! - we  _all_ share a pack bond. How do you think it makes us feel when the two of you are like this? You need to fix your shit!" She cried angrily, pointing her finger at both of them. "I don't care how, just do something about it before you bring us all down with your own insecurities!" And with that she swung around with a  _huff_ and left the kitchen, Scott and Liam jerking away to allow her to pass.

 

 

Scott watched her go a moment before turning back to Stiles with an arched brow. "Dude. Did she just use her scream as a weapon on you?"

 

 

"Yeah." Stiles muttered, trying not to feel freaking proud. In the end he couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah I guess she did."

 

 

"That's....just wow." Scott shared his awe before looking back and he and Derek with a sigh. "She's right though, you know. You guys need to stop doing this all the time. It's not healthy for us."

 

 

Stiles nodded stiffly and watched as everyone eventually cleared out, eyeing he and Derek like they were wayward children. Stiles stood there a moment before finally turning to Derek, who was staring at wall with a clenched jaw. "They're right, you know." Stiles finally said. "It's not helping anyone when we do this."

 

 

Derek looked like he wasn't going to reply but eventually he seemed to give up, and his shoulder sank a bit as he let out a deep sigh. "I know."

 

 

Stiles nodded, laughing softly after a moment. "I don't even know why we do it. I mean, it's not like we hate each other. Not really." He searched Derek's face, feeling a sudden twinge of doubt. Derek flinched as if he had been physically hit before cutting his gaze to Stiles.

 

 

"I don't hate you Stiles." He breathed softly.

 

 

Stiles released a breath he hadn't been aware he was even holding. "Good. Cause I don't hate you either. Actually right now I feel closer to you than any of the others." At Derek's look of surprise he rolled his eyes. "Dude I'd think that was obvious with the whole...you know." He rubbed at his chest vaguely before licking his lips. "I know things were shaky at first with us, but we've both been though so much together and in the end it brought us together as well. You're my friend, Derek. One of my best." He drew in another sigh. "So I don't know why we always end up like this. And I'm not just saying it's you, either. Some time's I just feel so...."

 

 

When he had drawn off Derek finally met his gaze, his eyes searching. "What, Stiles?"

 

 

Stiles stared at the floor a moment before reluctantly meeting Derek's eyes. "Cornered." He said. "I feel so cornered sometimes and it kind of freak's me out and I guess I just lash out."

 

 

Derek watched him in silence a long moment, his eyes dark and intense, before finally nodding in understanding.

 

 

Stiles ran a shaky hand through his hair. "Anyways, I guess we should refrain from trying to kill each other. For a bit at least. Until this thing is taken care of."

 

 

Derek grunted in agreement, turning and grabbing two beer's from his fridge. He handed one to Stiles as he passed towards the living room.

 

 

"Aww, you're sharing. Thank's big guy." Stiles said with a grin.

 

 

Derek glared at him before grabbing the Stiles' large duffle from the floor and swinging it over his shoulder. "Come on, idiot. I'll show you where you can sleep."

 

 

As he followed Derek down the hall to one of the spare rooms, he tried not to think too hard on the way Derek's shoulder muscles bunched and stood out against his faded red Henley, or the way the muscles in his upper arms strained against the fabric. As warmth trickled in his chest yet again, though, and by the way Derek's shoulders stiffened slightly, Stiles knew that it had apparently been enough. He shut his eyes and tried not to groan. 

 

 

This was going to be hell.


	34. The Feelings Mutual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> smut smut smut smut serious conversation. lol

Stiles  gripped the punching bag and leaned his weight against in, sucking in deep inhales of breath while his muscles bunched and twitched. He and Derek had been training for the better part of four hours, going from practicing at the bag to hand and hand combat. He had learned that while he did indeed seem to be leeching power from Derek through their link, it wasn't so substantial an amount to let him train for hours and hours on end without becoming exhausted. Oh well. He'd take what he could get.  Still, despite the aching of his bones and the burning of his veins, Stiles felt....amazing. He felt like his very cells were racing through his veins in some drug induced dance. And if he weren't so exhausted he would have been outside the loft, running in the night air and seeing just how far he could push himself. As it were, though, he was about to fall the hell over.

 

 

"Are you okay?" Derek asked a bit stiffly from across the room.

 

Stiles didn't look up at him. After their argument in the kitchen things were still a bit tense between them and Stiles found he wasn't quite able to let everything go. Maybe he was just being too stubborn. Whatever the reason, Derek seemed to be in the same mind, because he had been tense and distant the entire time, only barking out short orders as they had trained. Stiles somehow found it....annoying. Even though he himself hadn't spoken more than three words the entire time. "Fine." He breathed, drawing straight and turning just in time to catch a towel thrown at him.

 

 

"Shower." Derek said, turning away and heading towards the stairwell.

 

Stiles stared down at the plush red towel a moment, rubbing his thumb against his softness, and because he was so stupid, he found his mouth opening. "I suppose the smell of sex and sweat must really suck for you." Derek froze at that, the muscles in his back drawing tense. "Because you're a werewolf, I mean." Stiles finished. 

 

For a long while Derek was quiet, and Stiles thought he would not speak up, and felt a sort of disappointment and relief at the same time. He knew it was foolish of him when the last thing they needed to do was argue, but for some reason he just couldn't help himself. The longer Derek remained quiet though, the more his guilt grew, until he was just about to apologize when the wolf swung around, marching towards him.

 

"How are you feeling?" Derek asked randomly, his eyes flashing briefly blue as he advanced.

 

 

Stiles drew back instinctively with a frown. "What?"

 

 

"I mean after earlier today. When you had a panic attack."

 

 

Stiles flinched at the words. So Derek  _had_  been aware and used the link to help him. The acknowledgement made things feel suddenly so much more intimate and Stiles had to look away. "I....I'm...."

 

"I could feel it, you know." Derek continued, only stopping when he was directly in front of Stiles, bent over him so their faces were closer. "Every bit of it. The moment your breath started catching in your throat. When your heart was pounding in your chest. How the ground beneath you felt unsteady. I felt it all." He growled out, and Stiles clenched his jaw and suppressed a shiver at Derek's close proximity and the way his body responded to it, fire raging through his limbs immediately. In front of him Derek released another growl, his eyes narrowing. "And I feel  _that_."

 

Stiles sucked in a shocked inhale, looking up with wide eyes to find Derek staring at him with knowing eyes. He stumbled away immediately, shaking his head. "What?"

 

 

"I've always been able to smell it, you know. But now? Now that we have this thing connecting us?" Derek advanced, getting right back in his face again. "Now I can feel it too. Did you even realize it?  _I can feel it like it's my own, Stiles_." Derek had been trying to humiliate him, a cheap shot against the one Stiles had just given, but once the words were out he found himself breathless, and far more affected than he had wanted, and the last sentence came out choked. In front of him Stiles released a strangled cry, his wide eyes closing for a moment, clenching together tight, and from the hot slick of sensation that shot through Derek's chest and straight to his groin, he knew that Stiles was affected as well. As if that weren't proof enough, the thick, heady scent of arousal in the room lingered, brushing against Derek's skin like a lovers hand and this time when he felt his cock tighten, he knew from the sharp gasp Stiles released that he had felt it through the link as well. "And yes." Derek bit out, drawing even closer until their chest's were still touching. "I fucking hate that you smell like  _him_. My wolf  _hates_  it. Even now it's clawing towards the surface, demanding I cover the scent with my own." Derek grabbed a hold of Stiles shirt, jerking him forward harshly until their noses touched. Stiles released a gasp, his eyes shooting wide again, locked on Derek's lips. "So unless you want me to do that Stiles, go downstairs and take a  _fucking_  shower."

 

 

Stiles stood stock still a moment, the only motion the slight tremor of his body, and in those seconds Derek secretly begged the boy to not retreat. To stay and give into this thing that was between them now, because Derek realized suddenly that he  _needed_  it. Almost as much as he needed air to breathe. He needed to crash his mouth against Stiles. He needed to feel his skin underneath the palms of his hands. He needed to settle himself between his legs and slide home, burying himself as deeply as possible. And holy gods he needed to claim that spot between his shoulder and neck, leave his mark for the world to see. Because Stiles was  _his_. And if he had to wait one more minute he was going to go fucking insane.

 

 

Stiles large eyes were a haze of blown pupils and a thin ring of honey. His lips parted, his tongue snaking out to wet the bottom, and Derek released a growl low in his throat at the sight. He remembered how those lips had tasted. Warm and dark, like the sweet honey of his eyes. It was such an intoxicating mixture that Derek desperately wanted to open his mouth and suck hard on the boy's tongue, and for a moment he imagined that his cock would taste much the same and felt sharp spikes of arousal shoot through him, watching the way Stiles' body twitched with the shared emotion. Just when Derek thought victory was in store, that he was finally going to be able to touch Stiles like he had wanted  _so_  fucking long now, longer than he had even though, a visible tremble passed over Stiles, and his eyes shot wide. He pulled away instantly, and Derek almost cried out, but forced his grip on his shirt to open as the boy put distance between them. Stiles stumbled backwards, his eyes darting around the room, searching for something,  _anything_  but Derek.

 

 

"I - I can't...." Stiles released a confused whine, shaking his head. Without another word he made a wide birth around Derek before running down the stairs, and out of his sight.

 

 

Derek stood there a moment, his body out of control and shaking, his cock painfully hard and weeping in need. Derek groaned, digging the heel of his hand against the front of his pants to try and ease some of the pain, but it brought little comfort. Derek swore sharply. He needed to run. To shed his clothes and change into his wolf. But he knew that he couldn't, not when the threat of the Slaugh was so high. They were supposed to stay in pairs of two at all times. He supposed he could ask one of the other werewolves downstairs to go with him, but he could tell by their slow heart beats that most were already asleep or getting there. Unable to just stand still Derek moved to his large window and jerked it open a bit too harshly, feeling the handle break under his hand. He stepped out onto the balcony and stared up at the dark, heavily clouded sky. The night was moist (hehe) and rain was heavy in the air. It felt good against his overly hot skin. The sound of spraying water assaulted his senses then, and Derek realized Stiles was downstairs in the shower. The image of him wet and naked drew out a gutted groan, and before Derek knew what he was doing he was palming his cock again through his too tight jeans. Hot fire surged through his chest and with his wolf sense he heart Stiles' as he sucked in a gasp. Knowing that the boy could feel what he was doing put him in a pleasure filled haze, and Derek unbuttoned and zipped his pants before pushing them down slightly, and then his hand was gripped tight around his straining length. The moan he gave was shared with Stiles' own, and Derek briefly wondered if he were touching himself as well now. That image was nearly unbearable, and Derek leaned against the window of his balcony with a growl, beginning to pump himself slowly. Each slow glide of his foreskin against the head of his cock making little tremors shoot through his spine and groin. Derek closed his eyes, honing in on all his senses and listened hard. At the first sound of a hand pumping water slicked skin his knees nearly gave out. Stiles was touching himself. In his bathroom. In his shower. Derek released a deep, animal like growl and pumped his fist a bit faster. Even without any lube the sensation that hardened his dick even further was the most intense he had ever felt, and he leaned forward a bit from the weight of it, bent in on himself as his breath left his lungs in ragged exhales. Somehow, even with the distance, the smell of Stiles' arousal still filled his lungs with each deep inhale, and his inner wolf howled in pleasure at the knowledge that Stiles was touching himself because of  _him_. That Derek was bringing him pleasure, even if not by physical touch. His balls tightened painfully at the thought, heavy with need. Derek heard Stiles' heart beat increase, heard his breathing quicken and that slicking pump speed up as well, and Derek hurried to match his pace, feeling the first twinge very low in his belly and balls. He heard Stiles cry out then, and when the potent, staggering scent of his cum hit Derek's nose, he couldn't hold it in any longer and his head fell back on a choked groan, his hips jerking as he came hard, the white, thick fluid shooting out and landing on the balcony's floor. 

 

 

Derek stood there a long moment, shaking, his eyes staring up at the dark sky as the first drops of rain fell against his face. He blinked his eyes at the sensation, before carefully pushing his sensitive dick back into his briefs but not bothering to zip or button his jeans. Turning he pulled open the balcony window again and returned to his loft. With shaky hands he pushed his jeans down and kicked them off, and pulled his shirt off next. He stumbled over to his bed and fell on top of it, not bothering to pull the covers out from under him. For a long moment he stared up at his ceiling, his hand rubbing his chest, where the warmth was slowly beginning to fade. 

 

 

**************************

 

 

 

Stiles stared at himself in the foggy mirror, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. He felt weak. Languid. Hardly able to stay steady on his legs. Releasing a shaky breath he dragged his hand over his face. The bathroom was hot and his clothes felt sticky against his body, and he knew he couldn't hide in there forever, no matter how much he wished otherwise. He was no idiot. He knew what he had just done. What they had  _both_ just done. Derek's presence was still with him even now. Nowhere near as strong, but a soft ghost within his chest that left behind a lingering warmth. By all accounts he should be freaking out. And he was, really. Just nowhere near what he had expected. He wasn't on the floor struggling for breath, desperately trying to climb upwards from an attack. He was standing, and though his body still trembled slightly and his heart pounded, he wasn't tipping the scales. And he figured by all accounts he should be. 

 

 

He just felt so freaking  _lost_ yet anchored at the same time. 

 

 

Finally pushing open the door Stiles walked slowly from the bathroom, not looking towards the stairs where he knew Derek was upstairs. He made his way slowly down the hall and into the living room, glancing up to see everyone but Malia and Liam asleep in the room. He knew that the two must have snuck off to one of the spare bedrooms and knew what that meant, and surprisingly didn't feel a twinge of jealousy or hurt. Scott and Kira were asleep on the couch, curled in on one another, the TV still playing some old comedy movie that they must have fallen asleep to. Lydia was in the recliner, and although it wasn't facing him, Stiles could see that one of her legs was hung over the arm and was bouncing slightly. He moved towards her, coming to stand beside the recliner.

 

 

Lydia looked up at him from the glowing screen of her phone. Her eyes were tired and heavy lidded, and Stiles knew she had been on the verge of falling asleep. Those vivid green eyes rolled over him though, taking in his rumpled plaid pajama bottoms and Tardis tee shirt before settling on his face, and something there must have caught her attention because she straightened in the recliner, frowning. "Stiles? Are you okay?"

 

 

Stiles licked his lips, glancing sideways and trying to find words, but in the end he couldn't, and just turned to look at her again weakly.

 

 

Lydia sighed after a moment and then gave a slight nod, standing. Her pink silk capri pajama pants fell into place, settling right below her knees. "Okay. Come on, we're going out."

 

 

Stiles frowned then. "What? It's almost midnight."

 

 

"Yeah, well you clearly need to get away, and seeing as we aren't supposed to go alone, and everyone else is asleep, I guess that makes me responsible."

 

 

"You don't have to." Stiles muttered, though his voice carried no real conviction.

 

 

Lydia stared at him drly, giving him a once over again. "Uh yeah. I clearly do. Come on, get some shoes on." As she spoke she was slipping into her own black flats, pulling her heather grey cardigan tighter around her body. She grabbed her keys from the coffee table and was heading for the door then.

 

 

Stiles hurried pulled on his shoes and stumbled after her. "Don't we need to tell someone?"

 

 

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Really, Stiles? I'm 100% positive Derek is listening to us right now. We'll be back, Derek!" She said just a bit louder, though nowhere near actually yelling. 

 

 

When she tsked at him impatiently Stiles hurried out the door and shut it behind him, following her to the lift. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

 

 

"Yes, Stiles. Now shut up before I change my mind."

 

 

Stiles hurriedly closed his mouth, because as hesitant he was, he always really just needed to be away somewhere. They rode the lift in silence, leaving the building and getting into Lydia's car as she drove away towards the center of the city. "I'm going to need coffee if we're going to talk."

 

 

Stiles nodded and she turned on the radio, music filling the silence softly. Stiles just stared out the window as they drove, leaning his head against the head rest with a soft sigh. It had started to rain. Nothing too hard. Just a slight drizzle, but it made the city look overly bright and glaring, and he kind of liked it. Eventually Lydia pulled into an Insomnia Coffee and parked, grabbing some money from the dashboard.

 

 

"I'll be right back. Just sit." She said before leaving the car and dashing through the rain into the shop.

 

 

Stiles closed his eyes and listened to the combined sound of the rain and the radio, finding them a calming combination that was nearly luring him to sleep before Lydia was opening the driver's side door again and sliding in. She handed Stiles a large to go cup of coffee and then passed him a white bag. Stiles looked in the bag and saw a few pastries and couldn't help but grin, pulling out a cherry danish. 

 

 

"You get crumbs in my car I'll kill you." Lydia said in a far too serious tone as she took a sip of her coffee, her eyes going over Stiles as he rolled his eyes and took a large bit of his deliciously sweet midnight snack. "So what's wrong?"

 

 

Stiles glanced sideways at her as he chewed. He waited until he had swallowed and then took a sip of coffee, and even still didn't say anything. For once in her life Lydia just sat there, quietly, patiently, waiting for him to speak. "I don't know what's going on between me and Derek." He finally said in a soft, almost nonexistent voice.

 

 

Lydia nodded, reaching over to grab the bag and pull another danish out for herself. She took a delicate bite and chewed quietly a moment before speaking. "But you do admit that something is happening?"

 

 

"I'd be lying to myself if I said otherwise." 

 

 

Lydia looked at him a bit sadly then. "Sweetie, you have been lying to yourself. Both of you. But I'm glad that you've decided to stop."

 

 

 

Stiles looked at her, at the knowing gleam in her eyes. "You knew from the beginning, didn't you?"

 

 

"Of course. You can't hide anything from me. It took Scott and the other's a little longer to figure it out, though."

 

 

Stiles choked on his danish, wheezing and trying to draw in air. Lydia stared at him with horror filled eyes, though Stiles knew it was because she was afraid he'd upchuck in her car and not because she was actually worried about him dying. Finally when he could breathe again he turned watery eyes to her. "Everyone knows?!"

 

 

"Well, yeah, Stiles. You do realize that we are friends to various supernatural creatures who can pick up on these things, right?"

 

 

Stiles groaned, holding his face in his hands. "Oh my god this is horrible."

 

 

"Tell me about it. We've had to go weeks with the two of you dancing around each other. I think Scott's taken it the hardest though. He just can't wrap his little head around his best friend having the hots for Derek Hale. Which, hey, we all have eyes. I know how attractive that man is."

 

 

"This can't be happening." Stiles wanted to slam his head against the window a few times, because this was the most embarrassing thing he had ever went through. And for him, that was saying a lot.

 

 

"Well it is, and you guys need to figure it out, because it's driving all of us crazy."

 

 

 

"What is there to figure out, Lydia? It's Derek freaking Hale!" 

 

 

Lydia rolled her eyes. "So what? What does that have to do with anything?"

 

 

"Gee I don't know, maybe the fact that he ha--" Stiles drew off, because he didn't hate him. Did he? They had established that earlier tonight. Something the wolf had said earlier up in his room came back to Stiles then. He had said that his wolf hated the fact that he had smelled like Ryan. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

 

 

"What are you so scared of, Stiles?"

 

 

 

Stiles was pulled from his thoughts at Lydia's words, and he looked down at her a bit surprised by the question. He was about to open his mouth and say that he wasn't scared, but her unwavering gaze haltered his words, and he found that he couldn't lie to her. Licking dry lips Stiles turned to look out the window at the rain, silent a moment, trying to find the right words. "I'm not sure." And it was the truth. He had no idea why he was so scared of the idea of Derek Hale. There was just something about the man that made Stiles feel totally unsure of himself.

 

 

"Well you need to figure it out, and soon. Because, not to raise any alarms here, but it looks like Derek's teetering on the edge now days with whatever you two have going on. And I'm not saying that he would do anything to hurt you, but I also don't think he'll be able to keep it in much longer."

 

 

"That does not make me feel better!" Stiles hissed. "Just the other week the guy tried to kill me!"

 

 

Lydia scoffed and looked at him like he was the dumbest creation on earth. "Are you serious?! Are you that much of an idiot! How is it that you have been around werewolves so long and still don't know what that was?"

 

 

Stiles just shook his head, confused.

 

 

"Oh my god. He's being honest right now." She sighed. "Okay. What happened at the fullmoon party? That was not Derek trying to kill you, you idiot. That was a power play."

 

 

"A power what?"

 

 

".....Jesus you really are dense. A power play, Stiles! You were standing up to him. It kicked his wolf instincts into gear. It was a fight for dominance. Get it now? He was trying to mark you, Stiles. To claim you. To force you to submit. Which thank god Scott stopped it when he had, because if he would have bitten you I'm pretty sure that would have turned into some pretty intense dry humping and then an all out orgy. And Lydia Martin parties are so above that, thank you very much."

 

 

Stiles sputtered a long moment, his face beet red. Finally he released a loud, squeaking yell that made even Lydia cringe. "What?!?!"

 

 

Lydia shook her head and then patted him on the knee. "It's okay. Scott stopped him. You're man on man innocence is still intact. At least I think so. Is it?" Her intense questioning gaze had Stiles twitching.

 

 

"Yes!" He shouted, resisting he urge to cover himself.

 

 

Lydia gave a shrug and started chewing on her danish again. "Never know with you two. Just promise you'll let me know afterwards. Cause I have lots of questions. You know Jackson was bi. He never told anyone but me but I used to catch him watching some pretty-"

 

 

"Oh my god Lydia shut up!" Stiles stared at her like he was shocked she was even speaking such words. "I can't....we aren't going to....just no!"

 

 

Lydia snorted at that. "Oh whatever. Don't play coy, Stiles. It's not cute. You know it's going to happen eventually. We all do. We're just wishing you two would get it over with already I'm sick and tired of all the sexual tension. It's stinking up the room when you're together. And I'm not even a werewolf."

 

 

Stiles groaned again and laid his head back against the seat, staring up at the car's ceiling. "What about Ryan?" He asked softly.

 

 

"What about him?"

 

 

"I like him."

 

 

Lydia nodded. "I know. I just don't think the same way you like Derek. But that's for you to decide. If you think that you and Ryan should be together, well, be together. Can't say that Derek would be very happy about it, though. Actually he may kill you. So good luck."

 

 

Stiles glared at her. "You aren't being very helpful." It was a lie though. Stiles had really needed to talk to someone, and he was so freaking grateful to Lydia for taking the time to do it. She was an amazing friend. He hoped he never lost her. He turned to look at her, watching the way she delicately at the pasty that Stiles had all but swallowed long ago. How she sipped her coffee, pinky stuck out on her hand, and couldn't help but smile. "Hey. You did something pretty amazing tonight."

 

 

Lydia arched a brow at that, glancing over at him. "You'll have to be more specific. I do amazing things every second."

 

 

Stiles rolled his eyes but grinned. "I mean when you screamed tonight. Used your voice as a weapon. And then you put everyone asleep at Eichen House. You're getting better at using your powers."

 

 

 

Lydia's expression fell suddenly, the smile vanishing from her mouth and her eyes growing dark. She stared ahead of her a moment, seemingly lost in though.

 

 

"Lydia?"

 

 

The red head jerked and turned to look at him, and for the first time Stiles noticed the dark circles under her eyes. They were hardly noticeable, covered by concealer, but they were still there. She looked....tired. Like she hadn't been sleeping. It was a look that Stiles would always be able to place given his own past. "Are you okay?"

 

 

Lydia swallowed hard and nodded, a tight, not really there smile on her lips. "Yeah. Just need to get some sleep. You ready to go back to the loft now?"

 

 

Stiles frowned, suddenly wanting to pull her in for a hug. So he did it. Lydia stiffened in his arms slightly a moment, before going slack and wrapping her arms around him as well, resting her head on his shoulder and sighing. "I really am glad you're okay."

 

 

"I am too." He whispered before pulling away and looking down at her. "You'd let me know if there was anything wrong, right?"

 

 

Lydia nodded as she started her car again. "Yeah, Stiles. I would."

 

 

Stiles watched her as they pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to the loft, and really hoped that she was being honest.

 

 

Once they returned to the loft Stiles pushed Lydia back into the recliner and threw a blanket on her face with a grin, earning him a heated glare. Laughing softly he pulled his laptop from his bookbag and moved to a wall to plug it in, and rested on the floor on his stomach. He couldn't really sleep, so he figured he'd so some research. As he pulled up google, his thoughts turned to Derek, but before he could fall into that mess he pushed the wolf from his thoughts and got to work, trying yet again to find out anything about the Slaugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dudes...haha i feel soooo nervous after writing that chapter. Like I half expect Derek Hale to show up out of nowhere and beat me up for daring to post a scene of him masturbating lol *glances around paranoid* you guys have to keep me safe lol


	35. To Save a Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has a breakthrough. Trouble happens at the school again, forcing Stiles to do something drastic.

Stiles is woken up by Scott at 7:15 the next morning and pulled up from the floor with a groan. He sways on his feet a moment, his eyes blurry and his hair a complete mess and a small bit of dried drool on his chin. Not the prettiest sight, he knows. But no one really expected anything different. Lydia snorts as she walks by him, looking, of course, fabulous, already dressed for school. 

 

"Nice bed head." She said with a grin and much to Stiles surprise slaps him on the ass as she passes. Stiles let's out a squeak and jumps straight, blinking rapidly, trying to clear his foggy mind. 

 

"Here." Scott is shoving clothes into his hands then, and thank the lord his best friend knows how dumb he is first thing in the morning. "Go. Change." Scott says gently, pushing him towards the bathroom.

 

Stiles grunts and stumbles forward, nearly running into Liam who is eyeballing him like he is some freak show creation. Jeez what the hell was wrong with everyone? Morning people really irked him. Malia is walking out of the bathroom when he reaches it, and she thankfully gives him a knowing grin before patting his head and he blinks up at her like she's an angel. Malia shakes her head with a snort and leaves Stiles to the bathroom where he sleepily changes out of his pajamas and into a pair of pants that are for some reason extremely tight. And red. What the fuck? Too tired to contemplate on that Stiles pulls on his dark grey tee that has a graphic of the thundercat's logo. He looks at his reflection in the mirror and groans, leaning forward to wash his face and brush his teeth, running his hands through his hair to try and tame the wildness at least a bit. When it looks only fairly unkempt he settles and with a loud yawn that stretches his mouth open with impossible birth, stumbles out of the bathroom and straight into a brick wall. Stiles let's out a  _oof_ , limbs flailing and trying to grab onto something to keep him upright. Strong arms wrap around his waist then and jerk him forward, and Stiles finds his thinner frame pushed up intimately against a larger, defined body. He can feel the freaking abs through the navy blue Henley and doesn't even need to look up to know it's Derek. Last night comes back to him with a raging intensity and Stiles feels himself grow hot immediately, his eyes widening and his heart beginning to pound. The arms around him tightened, pulling him even closer and Stiles stared firmly at a stubbled chin, refusing to look up. "Thanks." He finally said a little breathlessly, lifting his hands and pushing against Derek's upper arms. Derek held on a moment, before finally his grip loosened and then released Stiles, and Stiles nearly released a sigh of relief. He turned from the wolf and started down the hall, his pants suddenly even tighter than they were before. He can feel Derek's eyes burning into his back and is unable to turn and glance over his shoulder. The wolf's eyes are low on his body, his eyes hard and.... _hungry_ , and Stiles nearly trips at the sight. Derek looks up at him then and he does trip, having to catch himself against the wall so he doesn't go down. Had Derek Hale just been looking at his ass?! Unable to compute that at the moment Stiles rushed out of the hall and back into the living room, walking straight to Lydia with a narrowed glare. "Done a little shopping, Lydia?" He hissed out.

 

 

Lydia gives a impish grin and looks down at his long, lean legs, tilting her head to the side. "I knew they would look great on you. Don't worry, I bout more than one pair."

 

 

Stiles sputtered a moment, before turning his glare to Scott, pointing. "And you allowed this to happen! You gave me the jeans!"

 

 

Scott looked around a bit sheepishly, shrugging. "It's Lydia, man. I can't exactly say no."

 

 

Well...that was true. So okay, maybe Stiles could forgive him for that. But Lydia? "My old clothes were just fine, thank you."

 

Lydia blinked up at him with a look that said 'aw bless his heart'. "Yes, Stiles. You're old baggy jeans that were two sizes too big were fine. Don't whine so much. I let you keep the shirt, didn't I?"

 

Stiles didn't have time to go over how incredibly messed up that sentence was before Kira wrapped her hand around his arm and was pulling him towards the door. "Come on guys! We're going to be late!"

 

Scott ran in behind Kira then and jerked her into his arms, lifting her against him and placing loud kissed up her neck. Kira shrieked happily and Stiles rolled his eyes at the sight as he headed out the door. "Jeez. I swear it's nothing but a big orgy around you people."

 

"Orgy. I never thought of that. That could work out well." Kira said with a grin as Scott set her back down. "And least you and Derek would get some action then."

 

Scott tried to hid a snort of amusement behind his hand, and Stiles glared at him. "Not cool, bro. Not cool at all."

 

When they were out of the building he jogged to his jeep, well, kind of wobbled. The pants were  _tight_. How the hell did Derek manage to walk around in the things? No wonder he was always so angry. Hopping into his jeep he followed Scott and Kira as they hopped on the wolf's motorbike and sped away, looking cool as hell and making Stiles a bit jealous. Maybe he should buy a motorcycle? 

 

 

Yeaaaah. He'd be dead in a day.

 

 

*************************************************

 

 

 

Stiles let his book bag fall on the library floor and sat across from Ryan with a yawn, rubbing at his tired eyes. Ms. Keene had allowed everyone to spend the class in the library, seeing as their report was actually due in a few days. Somehow, with everything that had been going on, Stiles had completely forgotten about it. He would have been nervous if it weren't for the fact that he knew basically everything there was to know about the subject. So all he really had left to do was write a two page essay. And that would be a breeze. So he didn't feel to bad that he and Ryan weren't really paying much attention to the books Ryan had spread out on the table. 

 

"I don't get it." Ryan spoke up, his eyes raking up and down Stiles. "How can you look so messy and attractive at the same time."

 

Stiles snorted and gave a crooked grin. "That's my specialty, buddy. It's a rare gift." Nah. All joking aside the compliment had him blushing a bit.

 

"Obviously." Ryan arched a brow and his gaze lingered on Stiles lower body. "I like the pants."

 

Stiles rolled his eyes and grumbled, stretching out on the chair. "Yeah. Lydia seems to think I'm a doll that she can dress up sometimes."

 

"Well I'll be sure to thank her later." Ryan said with a flirty wink and Stiles couldn't help but shake his head and laugh. 

 

"Please don't. It will just go to her head and believe me that's the last thing she needs." He pulled out the two cokes he had gotten from the vending machine and slid one to Ryan, popping the top on his and taking a swig.

 

Ryan watched him with an amused grin. "You know we aren't really supposed to be drinking and eating in here, right?"

 

Stiles snorted. "We're teenagers. If they really expect us to follow that rule they're crazy." 

 

 

"Maybe you're just a rebel." 

 

"Hmm. I like that thought. Totally makes me sound more badass." Stiles laughed through another yawn, and then laid his head on the table with a groan. "Jeez I'm tired."

 

"Busy night?" Ryan looked down at him in sympathy.

 

"Kind of. I didn't really fall asleep until around 3:30. I was researching the Slaugh all morning and-" Stiles jerked up suddenly with a gasp, his eyes huge. He sat like that a moment before bolting up to his feet. "Oh my god I totally forgot!" He all but shouted, earning him a few hush's from the angry librarians. Stiles gave a apologetic grin and sat back down, but he was absolutely beaming now, his eyes lit with excitement and he could hardly be still.

 

"Are you okay?"

 

 

"Oh my god I can't believe I forgot!" He dug his phone out of his pants and started texting at a nearly impossible speed. "Dude! I finally found information on the Slaugh last night!"

 

Ryan's eyes widened slightly. "Really? That's awesome! What did you find out?"

 

"Not a fucking lot but just enough to give us something to go on hopefully." He looked up at Ryan then with wide eyes. "This thing is Irish. Did you know that?"

 

 

Ryan frowned, shaking his head. "No. I've never heard of it before, although I've never really been one for mythology."

 

"Well you most likely wouldn't have anyways. This thing is so freaking old that it's hardly got any lore on it. And what I did find was only like three paragraphs, but hell it's more than we knew. Apparently this thing is a faerie. I know. Who freaking knew! It's actually a changing, which is a faerie baby that is switched out with a human. All it said was that the Slaugh starts out as a normal faerie, and only changes into a Slaugh depending on it's life situation. Like if it's gone though hell while maturing, then the negativity consume's it and it changes into something evil."

 

"Wow. That sounds...I don't even know what that sounds like." Ryan leaned towards him with wide eyes. "Did you find out how to kill it?"

 

Stiles frowned at that, his excitement momentarily dampened. "Well, it didn't really say anything. But it's still a faerie, and i  _do_ know that Faerie's are weak against things like iron and salt and a few other things. But still that's easy to look up. Oh jeez I can't believe I totally forgot to let everyone know this morning! Do you know what this means, Ryan? We finally have something to fight this thing with! No one else has to get hurt!"

 

Ryan's smile was large, relieved. "I'm glad. How are you going to find it?"

 

Another punch to the gut. Stiles' shoulders fell with a groan, and he looked up at Ryan with helpless eyes. "I'm still not sure." He shook his head then, drawing straighter. "But I'm sure now that we know it's origins we can go from that and find out. This is the closest we've ever been to stopping this thing. I'm not giving up hope now."

 

Ryan watched him a moment, his smile turning soft. "This is exactly why I like you, you know."

 

Stiles paused in his texting again, looking up at Ryan with arched brows.

 

"The way you never give up. You're full with so much determination. You're so strong. I'm kind of jealous."

 

Stiles rolled his eyes with a grin. "Why are you jealous? We're practically dating. I'll share, I promise."

 

Ryan drew back at that, his brows high. "We're dating?"

 

 

Stiles immediately realized his mistake and paled, stuttering a long moment. "Practically! I said practically! I mean if you don't look at it that way it's cool neither do I. I just thought that was where this was going anyway because we keep kissing. Which yeah I know you don't have to be dating to kiss someone but I guess I just would rather be dating someone since I'm kissing them and oh my god I'm going to shut up!" He sucked in a deep calming breath, staring down at the table red faced.

 

Ryan stared laughing across from him and Stiles looked up at him with a small glare. "It's okay! Calm down, Stiles. I didn't mean it like that. I just didn't know if that's what you wanted or not. But I do. Very bad. And now that I know you do as well it makes me happy."

 

Stiles licked his lips nervously and looked up at Ryan. "So...are we dating, then?"

 

Ryan smiled softly, and nodded. "Yeah. We're dating."

 

Stiles gave a little goofy smile after a moment, bobbing his head a bit back and forth. "Cool."

 

Ryan snorted, shaking his head.

 

Stiles took another drink of his coke, trying to hide his blush behind the can and failing miserably. He had actually been a bit surprised by his own words. He wasn't sure if he actually wanted to date Ryan, but apparently he did. And honestly he might as well. They were already going out on dates and kissing. Speaking of..."Hey I had a question I forgot to ask you yesterday. The other day when you slept at the loft, uh-did anything happen between us? I mean I know we kissed, but I kind of blacked out the rest of the night and I just found a hickey on my neck and well, I guess I was kind of freaking out. Am freaking out."

 

Ryans eyes fell to the mark on his neck that was almost faded away. He stared at it a moment. "I was actually going to ask you about that yesterday but thought it wasn't my place because I wasn't sure if we were dating or not. I didn't do that."

 

Stiles blinked at him, confused. "What?"

 

"I didn't give you that hickey, Stiles."

 

Stiles' frown grew and he stared down at the table a moment. "Then who the hell did?" He mumbled.

 

Across from him Ryan arched a brow. "Are you seriously asking that question?"

 

Stiles looked up at him with a confused expression. Before he could say anything, though, a scream suddenly rang out from somewhere out of the library and down the hall. Stiles swung his gaze to the library doors, his eyes narrowing. "Did you hear that?"

 

Ryan frowned. "Hear what?"

 

"The scream." Stiles muttered, and then jumped slightly when it came again, this time closer. His gaze swung to Ryan as he stood up. " _That_ scream."

 

Ryan just shook his head. "I don't hear anything." Almost directly after another scream rang out, and Ryans eyes shot wide. "I did hear that, though." He stood, staring at the door as well.

 

A few more people in the library had heard it as well, and were still, silent, their eyes searching around them in confusion. A sickening sensation built low in Stiles' belly, and he got a very, very bad feeling. "Ryan...we need to get out of here." He whispered before jerking around and looking at everyone in the library. 'We need to get everyone out of here!" Stiles pushed away from the table, noticing that a few people were now standing, looking at the door. "Run!" He shouted. Everyone just looked at him with wide eyes. Confused. Stiles swore sharply as more screams sounded in the hallways. "Get the hell out of here!" He commanded, moving forward and pointing towards the back entrance of the library that lead outside. Everyone seemed to jerk into motion then, and were running for the double doors, looking over their shoulders in fear as the screams grew louder in number. 

 

Ryan grabbed onto his arm then, pulling him towards the door. "Come on!"

 

Stiles allowed himself to be pulled a moment before jerking backwards, shaking his head. "No. I can't! My friends are in there somewhere. I can't just leave them in there unless I know they're okay!"

 

Ryan was on him in a second, grabbing his upper arms. "Stiles! You don't know what's out there! Someone could be shooting up the school!"

 

"Do you hear gun shots!" Stiles hissed, pulling away. "I  _know_   what's out there! And I can't leave everyone behind.  _Anyone_. The rest of the school is in danger too. No. I'm not running." Stiles swung around and searched the library a moment before running over to a glass case holding a fire extinguisher. He opened the case and pulled it out. It wasn't the best weapon, but it was all he had at the moment. Ryan was beside him then and he swore sharply." What are you doing? Go!"

 

"I'm not leaving you to fight those things alone." Ryan glared down at Stiles, unmoving.

 

Stiles looked like he was going to argue a moment but eventually just nodded. "Okay. Just stay close, okay? And don't do anything stupid."

 

"Shouldn't I be the one telling you that. Like five minutes ago." Ryan drew out.

 

Stiles shook his head, moving to the doors. "Yeah. But it wouldn't have mattered." Once at the doors he paused, tilting his head and listening. The screams were coming from down the hall. Not quite right outside. Sucking in a deep breathe he burst through the doors and stumbled into the hallway, immediately almost being run over by a crowd of running students. He swore and was pushed back against Ryan, who held onto him and set him steady again on his feet.

 

"Are you okay?" Ryan yelled over the chaos.

 

Stiles nodded stiffly and pushed through the crowd, going in the opposite direction of the running people. He could hear loud crashing and animal like cries from the far end of the hall, and cringed at what he would find. "Call my dad!" Stiles yelled at Ryan. "The station! Call the station and tell my dad what's going on!" He waited until he saw Ryan nod and pull his phone out of the pocket before pushing forward again quickly, losing Ryan in the crowd. He heard the boy calling for him, but ignored him, not wanting him to get caught in the cross fires. He had only walked a few feet before he saw a white streaked head plowing through the crowd football style. Stiles watched in horror as bodies were harshly shoved aside, the few that the infected boy got a hold of falling victim to his fist's and feet. Gritting his teeth Stiles lifted the fire extinguisher and surged forward, pulling it back and hitting the guy with as much force as he could muster. Which apparently turned out being a lot. The boy skidded backwards a few feet, sliding over the floor and coming to stop at the feet of two more people with white streaked hair and pale, unfocused, angry eyes. Stiles stumbled to a stop, staring up at them with huge eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. "Oh shit..." One of the guys he recognized from the lacrosse team. He had his stick in his hand, and had been smashing in the windows of the hallway, but now turned to Stiles, the stick gripped tight in his hand. The other was a girl he had had art with at one time. She was small and slim, but looked somehow incredibly threatening under the influence of the Slaugh. The girl cocked her head to the side, watching him, before darting out towards him with a piercing scream.

 

Stiles flinched back immediately, holding his hand up to ward off her attack. The bracelet that Deaton had given him released a glowing force field immediately, and the girl went flying backwards through the air, landing hard against a wall. Stiles sucked in a choked breath, having forgotten he was even wearing the bracelet. He looked down at it with an appreciative glance though, thanking whoever the hell was listening for making him think he should wear it today. The guy with the lacrosse stick was shouting his fury then, surging towards Stiles. His bracelet had already ceased to glow and Stiles knew that it took a while before it kicked into affect again, so he barely managed to dodge the guy as he ran at Stiles. As Stiles swung out of his reach though, he turned to find himself coming face to face with the first guy he had hit with the fire extinguisher. He felt a fist in his face immediately and grunted as he went down hard, his ears ringing. 

 

"Stiles!!" Ryan screamed out somewhere behind him.

 

Stiles jerked his eyes to Ryan, watching in horror as the guy with the lacrosse stick advanced on him. Panic filled his gut, eating at his insides. No. He couldn't let the thing hurt Ryan. He fucking  _refused_ to. Stiles let out his own cry of fury and surged to his feet, smashing his fist against the side of the girls face as she charged at him again, sending her to the floor. He ran towards the lacrosse player, his grip on the fire extinguisher so tight that his hand bled against the handle. He reached the boy just as he grabbed onto Ryan, and lifting the weapon bashed it as hard as he could into his head. The light directly over them burst suddenly, glass reigning down on them, but Stiles hardly noticed as he continued to smash the boy's head, unseeing in his frenzy the red that splattered thick with each hit, or the way his skull was caving in. Eventually Ryan grabbed onto him and was pulling him back, screaming his name and trying to snap him out of it. Stiles finally fell back against Ryan, his eyes wide. He saw blur's run past him then, and watched as Scott, Malia, and Liam jumped on the remaining two students. Stiles barely paid any attention to them, instead staring down at the boy at his feet, who was still, his head busted open and blood spilling in out heavy under him. He turned his gaze down to the bloody extinguisher and cried out, dropping it to the floor before staring back at the horrific sight of the dead body in front of him.

 

He didn't realize his legs had given out until he realized he and Ryan were on the ground, Ryan's arms wrapped around him tightly. He could vaguely hear the boy talking to him, no doubt trying to calm him, but all Stiles could focus on was the boy that he had killed. He did become aware of something else, though. His chest hurt. So freaking much. Choking out a sob Stiles pushed an arm against it, suddenly desperately wishing Derek were there.


	36. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles falls apart. The pack is there to pick up his pieces and put him back together.

For what it was worth, Stiles managed to hold it together until the blood touched his shoes. And then something inside of him snapped. Ryan held onto desperately as he screamed, flailing against him and turning away from the horror of what he had done, clamping his eyes shut. Never wanting to open them again. He screamed and screamed, vaguely aware of hands touching him, trying to calm him. Words whispered in his ears that held no real weight to Stiles, not when another voice was screaming  _death_ and  _murder_. He had killed someone. Again. The gravity of it was unbearable. Stiles couldn't breathe. He couldn't even move, his limbs locked and dead. Dead. Like the boy at his feet. Dead, like the people in the hospital. Dead, like Allison. So many people dead from his hands. He would never be clean again. Never be able to wash off the stain on his soul, no matter what ritual Deaton did. Stiles felt slightly familiar hands gripping him then, wrenching him away from Ryan and pulling him into a chest that smelled like gun powder and aftershave. His dad, he realized faintly. His dad was holding him. No. His dad couldn't hold him. He would just infect him with his darkness. Stiles panicked full blown then, jerking away with a strangled cry and stumbled to his hands and knees, his limbs still numb. He began to crawl away helplessly, fighting and screaming again as his father tried to hold him still. Eventually he just rolled up into a tiny ball, knee's drawn in on himself, body shaking, finally ceasing in his screams only because his throat was too raw to produce the pitch any longer. He wasn't aware how long he laid there, going in and out of focus, but eventually he felt a hesitant hand touch his arm and Stiles flinched, whimpering at the contact. He heard his name being called softly, as if from far away, and knew that he recognized the voice, that it was familiar and important to him somehow, but in his state he couldn't really focus enough to know it fully. He was being pulled up then, and Stiles started sobbing, weakly trying to pull away, but the arms around him tightened and pulled him into a lap, and suddenly he felt the pain in his chest lessen slightly. Not completely, just enough to allow him a painful kind of peace, and Stiles slumped against the chest with a cry, his head falling on a shoulder. His body was shaking so hard his teeth were beginning to chatter, and the arms tightened around him, pulling him closer to the warmth of the body. He sat like that what seemed like forever, but knew it could have only been minutes. Then he heard his father speaking again, but was unable to process the words. But the next thing he knew another set of hands were on his shoulders, puling him away from the warmth of the body holding him and Stiles cried out as intense pain hit him again. He heard a warning growl and the hands immediately released him, and Stiles was pulled again tightly against the body under him. They were talking now, the people around him, in sharp, frantic whispers. Stiles felt momentarily weightless. The person holding him was standing. Stiles whimpered and hoped that they would not let him go, but they didn't. Only drew him tighter to their chest and Stiles gripped the front of their soft shirt and held on for dear life.

 

 

 

***********************************************

 

 

When he awoke the first time he was in the back of an ambulance. He knew that at least. Hands were on his body, pressing and prodding and Stiles fought against them with a cry. He felt a familiar hot body at his back, and a hand come to rest against his eyes, shutting the world away and pulling his head back to rest against a shoulder as he was shushed gently, a deep voice whispering in his ear. Then he was out again.

 

 

***************************************************

 

 

The second time he woke up he blinked his eyes open and saw that he was in the back of his dad's cruiser. He shifted slightly and felt steel like arms tighten around his middle. Glancing up he saw Derek staring down at him, his eyes holding a flood of emotion. Stiles whimpered at the sight, because he knew if Derek was looking at him like that, then it was bad. Sticky red blood covering his shoes came back to him then, and he let out a choked sob, his body starting to shake again. From the front seat his dad and Lydia swung around to look at him, their eyes pained and sad. Across the seat from where he and Derek were Scott leaned forward and laid a hand on his arm, whispering things to him to try and calm him down.

 

Stiles shook his head, digging his nails into Derek's arm. "No, no, no." He whispered almost mindlessly. "Can't touch. Bad. Unclean." He drew away from Scott's hand, pressing further against Derek.

 

A look of pure agony crossed Scott's face, and Stiles closed his eyes with a cry when he saw the first tear fall from his best friends eyes. Stiles couldn't stand the thought that he was the reason Scott was hurting so much, and instantly shut his mind down, falling back into oblivion.

 

 

******************************************************

 

 

When he woke up again it was in his own bed. The room was dark, only illuminated by a pale glow from the moon outside. Even with the darkness, he was able to make out Derek's face in front of him. The wolf was watching him carefully, sadly. Like Stiles was the most fragile thing in the world and he were horrified at the thought of him breaking. Unused to seeing such a look from the wolf, Stiles found himself trembling and tears rushing from his eyes. He reached for Derek as the wolf was reaching for him, and they met in the middle. Stiles gripped his hands in his shirt as Derek pulled him flush against his body, the hand on the back of Stiles head pushing his face against his neck. Derek didn't say anything as he cried, just ran his hand through Stiles hair and held onto him tightly with his other arm. He felt another arm slide around his middle and froze, Lydia's flowery perfume coming to his nose. He tried to scoot away from her but had nowhere to go seeing as Derek was a living wall at his front. Stiles cried out as Lydia gripped him tight, her body warm against his back. He felt another body at his feet then, a hand closing over his ankle, and then suddenly hands were all over him. Hot touches trying to anchor him, keep him steady and offer comfort. At first he fought against them, but Derek grabbed onto his flailing limbs and forcefully held him still, whispering things into his hair, and Stiles finally gave up with a whine, growing slack. He sobbed into Derek's neck, the hands on and around him a hot embrace that he both felt he didn't want and desperately needed.

 

His chest was on fire. A hot surge against his breast bone and heart. But it was a good kind of a hot. A hot that would scorch away all the bad and give birth to something new.

 

********************************************************

 

 

Stiles opened his eyes with a soft sigh. Light filled his room, and outside birds sang merrily. Stiles felt deadened to the sound. His heart beating at a slow, sluggish pace. His eyes locked with a stubbled chin in his face, before he pulled back slightly and stared up at Derek, who was fast asleep. The wolf's arms were locked tight around Stiles, and he cringed, wondering how the hell he was supposed to slip away without waking him. Glancing down, though, he realized Lydia was entwined with them as well, tight against his back. Letting his head fall back against the pillow he gave an inward sigh, and for a moment just stared at Derek's collarbone. He briefly considered just going back to sleep, but he had to pee really bad. Plus his back hurt like a bitch and he needed to stand up and work out the knots. Pulling himself up as far as he were able Stiles very slowly and carefully began to pull Derek's arms from around him. The man released a sigh and shifted in his sleep, but otherwise did not wake up. Stiles did the same to Lydia, who made a grouchy face in her sleep before rolling over, her back to him. Closing his eyes in relief Stiles sat up fully, looking down his bed to see Scott curled up in a tiny ball, and Kira behind him, plastered against the foot board with her arms wrapped around Scott. Stiles would have lingered in amusement over the fact that Scott was the little spoon, but he felt too numb to even smile, and just turned his head away, beginning to climb from his bed very carefully. Malia and Malia were sitting on the floor, their backs against the bed fast asleep. Malia had her head on Liam's shoulder, and Liam's head rested on her's. And he was snoring softly. Stiles silently walked past them and out his door, drawing it softly closed behind him. He stumbled across the hall to the bathroom, flipping on the light and relieving himself. 

 

After he just stood there, staring down at the floor in silence. After a few minutes, his vision finally began to clear and he noticed with horror that his red jeans were splattered with even redder blood. Stiles choked out a sob and turned to face the mirror, jerking back as if physically hit when he found that he was covered in the stuff. He was ripping his clothes off instantly, throwing them in the trash bin by the toilet and then rushing to the shower. He cut on the hot water, not bothering with any cold, and moved to stand under the spray. He hissed at the first contact, but forced himself to endure it as he grabbed a bar of soap and began to wash himself with a furious intensity. By the time he was done, he was shaking and his skin was red, raw. He let the bar of soap drop to the tub floor and just stood there a while, letting the hot water rush over him in stinging rivulets . Finally he shut off the shower and opened the curtain, blinking past the fog in the room. He noticed that there were folded up clothes on the toilet seat, and the trash bin was no longer there. The fact that someone had came in the bathroom and he hadn't even been aware was not lost on him, and Stiles stumbled out of the stall, drying himself off slowly. The sweat's and tee shirt belonged to his father, so he figured his dad must have been the one to place them there. He put them on mechanically, his face not really showing any emotion. His limbs just going through the motions. Outside of the bathroom he smells fresh coffee, and walks down the stairs absently, coming to stand at the kitchen's entrance.

 

His dad looks up instantly from where he was sitting at the table, and the next thing Stiles know's he's being hugged tight, his father's arms almost painfully tight. "Oh thank god. Are you alright?" 

 

 

Stiles knows the question was meant in a physical standard. Not mental. Because it was pretty clear that mentally he wasn't in fact alright. He gives a slight nod though, and his dad swallows hard, before leading him to take a seat at the table. Stiles does so obediently, sitting down and staring at the dark wood. His dad places a cup of coffee in front of him and tell's him to drink, and Stiles even does that.

 

For a moment neither of them say anything, but Stiles know's it's not for lack of words. His father is scared to set him off again. To trigger something that will make him a screaming mess on the floor. And honestly Stiles doesn't blame him. He already feel's like he's so close to the edge as it is, stretched so thin and nearly splitting. 

 

"How many." Stiles finally blurts out, his throat still raw and painful.

 

His dad looks up at him, blinking a moment before sighing. "Five are in the hospital. Two of them the one's infected. Melissa say's the one's infected don't have much longer before...." The Sheriff draws off then, his hand tightening around his coffee. "Two are dead. One a student who was beaten to death by one of them, and the other....."

 

Stiles nods, not needing his father to continue. He tries his best to hold himself together. He tries so  _fucking_ hard, but tears still begin to spill down his cheeks. His father cringed and made to move to him, but Stiles shook his head and pushed backwards against the chair. He gritted his jaw tight and sucked in hard inhales, trying to calm himself.

 

 

"It was self defense, Stiles."

 

Logically, Stiles knew that. But he didn't feel very logical at that moment. He felt like a monster. Like that darkness he had worked so hard to contain inside of him was growing again, spilling wide and covering anything within him that might have still been good. Pure. "I can't go through this again." He finally choked out, bending in on himself. "Not again. I won't make it, Dad."

 

john's face contorted in pain and he stood again, moving closer to his son. Stiles jumped up so fast that his chair fell backwards. He stumbled away, holding his hands out in front of him. "No! Don't touch me. You can't touch me. I don't want it to infect you."

 

"What? You don't want what to infect me, Stiles?"

 

"This  _thing_!" Stiles shouted, his fist's against his stomach. "It's bad. Keep's hurting people. Keeps -  _killing..."_ Stiles kept stumbling backwards, needing to distance himself from his father, not wanting his darkness to spread into him.

 

He found his back colliding with a wall then, and when strong arms came around his middle knew it was Derek. Stiles cringed and tried to pull away from him, but Derek would not allow him. The rest of the pack were filling the living room then, everyone approaching him slowly, cautiously, and Stiles fought like a wild cat in Derek's arms, scratching and hitting and screaming. Why could none of them understand he didn't want to hurt them too? Derek was whispering in his ear, trying to calm him down, but Stiles wouldn't let him, and he had nearly managed to pry his grip lose when suddenly Lydia was standing in front of him, her eyes wet with tears. And then she was slapping him. Hard.

 

Stiles jerked in shock, his body stilling instantly. Behind him Derek released a threatening growl but Lydia just drew closer, her eyes hot and sad all at once. "STOP IT!" She screamed out angrily, her voice jarring Stiles' ears. "Do you think you are the only one?! Are we really doing this  _again_?!" Stiles stared down at her with wide eyes, unable to find words to voice his surprise. Lydia didn't seem to care as she drew even closer, grabbing his face roughly and forcing him to look at her, though his eyes had never wavered. "We all have blood on our hands, Stiles. Every single one of us. We all share that guilt. That darkness. Stop trying to single yourself out because it's just selfish! You have to stop doing this! It's killing us to watch you! Let us help you! You need to trust us. I know it's hard to strip yourself so bare in front of others, even your friends, but that's what we're here for. We're supposed to have each other's back's when things happen. We're supposed to pull each other out of the darkness. Not dwell in it. And you are dwelling, Stiles. Even if you think your not. Even if you say you're moving on. Stop fucking lying to yourself! About this, about  _everything_. You'll never be happy unless you do." Lydia sobbed then, her hands shaking on his face. "And we just want you to be happy, Stiles."

 

Stiles choked out, wanting to look away from her desperate gaze but unable to. "I feel like I don't have the right to be happy." He cried, feeling Derek's arms around him tighten and the man lean forward to lay his head on his shoulder. "I've done so much..."

 

"We all have." Lydia's voice had grown soft, barely above a whisper. "Does that mean that we don't deserve to be happy?" Stiles chin quivered and he shook his head slowly. "Exactly. You're just the same, Stiles. All of us deserve happiness. Every single one of us. "This 'thing' inside of you? It's your guilt, Stiles. And if you keep letting it control you it's going to swallow you hole. You _have_ to let it go.  If not for yourself then for us, because we can't watch you beat yourself up like this anymore. It's too painful. We love you so much. All of us."

 

Stiles finally shut his eyes and turned his head, crying fully now and not able to stop. "I'm sorry." He croaked out.

 

He felt Lydia pull his head down and kiss his forehead before pulling away. His dad was in front of him then, pulling him forward and Derek reluctantly dropped his arms. Stiles wrapped his arms around his dad, burying his face in his shoulder and holding on tight. They stood like that a good ten minutes until John finally pulled away, moving Stiles to sit at the table again and pushing his coffee back in front of him. Stiles picked up the coffee as people sat around the table, and when there were not enough chairs they just shared seats, and it was the most normal thing ever. Every so often he would feet a foot against his own, or a hand brushing his arm, and clung to the sensation. These people were more than his friends. More than 'Pack'. They were family. He couldn't lose that. He had to change. Had to mean it this time. His dad was sitting down sandwiches and fruit then, and everyone was eating. Stiles glanced up as a plate slid in front of him and found Derek watching him with a steady gaze. Stiles lingered on that gaze a moment, and when he did look down and pick up his sandwich to begin eating he knew that he couldn't deny it any more. His feelings for Derek. He didn't know when they had started, or how, but he knew that it wan't just because of the link between them. He still didn't know just how deep those feelings were. What they really meant. But he couldn't deny there was  _something_ , and he figured it was time to start admitting it to himself. Time to start thinking seriously on it, and piecing through the feelings to figure it out himself. 

 

No one left his house all day. And when Melissa got off her shift she pulled Stiles in for a hug immediately. When night fell again the entire pack was still there, in his living room watching a movie. He was seated on the couch beside Derek, their sides pressed against each other, the wolf's warmth spilling into him. Stiles tried not to feel embarrassed from it, but couldn't quite help it. He just still wasn't used to it. Lydia was at his other side, her hand entwined in his, and he realized then that they had somehow grown incredibly close during the past few weeks. 

 

Scott sat at his feet, his arms around Kira as they grinned at the old Tom Hank's comedy. Scott had approached him earlier that day about the text message Stiles had sent him just before the attack at the school, and Stiles had told him everything that he had discovered last night. Everyone had been thrilled at the news, relieved to feel like they actually had their foot in the game again. Stiles was right there with them. 

 

Malia and Liam were curled up together on a recliner, though both weren't paying any attention to the movie and instead staring at each other lovingly and whispering. Stiles felt his gut clench slightly at the sight. Not because he was jealous, but just because he missed that. Sharing intimate moments with someone. Secret's. Though he guessed they weren't really secret's when most of the people in the room had super hearing.

 

Parrish had come over at one point, letting lose a sigh of relief when he saw that Stiles was okay. After hugging Lydia and kissing her forehead he and his father had gone to the kitchen to talk, and John kept casting weary glances over to Stiles, so Stiles knew they had been talking about him. Parrish had stayed with them a few hours, before being called back in. He had gripped Stiles' shoulder firmly and told him everything would be okay, and then after kissing Lydia goodbye had left again.

 

Stiles looked away from the TV screen to see his father still sitting in the kitchen. Nursing what had to be his third cup of coffee. Any other day Stiles would be fussing him out about it, but he figured if there was ever a day to let his dad indulge a bit, it was now. At least he didn't have the scotch out. His father's face was worn. Tired. The lines etched deep. Melissa sat with him at the table, holding his hand and talking softly, and Stiles smiled slightly at the sight, glad that his dad had someone to lean on other than him. He began to pull away from Derek and Lydia then, but Derek's hand shot out around his wrist.

 

Stiles looked down at him, at his weary eyes and sighed. "It's fine. I'm just going to talk to my dad." 

 

Derek stared up at him a moment before nodding and puling his hand away. Stiles tried not to morn the loss of his touch. Lydia rubbed his back and he stood, walking carefully through Scott and Kira's sprawled forms and to the kitchen. Melissa looked up as he approached and smiled softly before patting his father's hand and standing. As she passed for the living room she leaned and placed a kiss on his temple, and Stiles smiled slightly at her before moving to sit in front of his dad.

 

"What's going on?" Because he knew something was up.

 

His dad's shoulders tensed a moment before he released a deep, bone tired sigh. "You're going to have to go to the station with me tomorrow and give a report, Stiles."

 

Stiles stared down at the table and nodded. He figured. He had killed someone after all. It wasn't like he could just walk away from that without being questioned. "Okay. We can go first thing in the morning."

 

His dad leaned forward and grasped his hand tight, forcing Stiles' gaze up again. "Hey. It's going to be alright, you hear?"

 

Stiles nodded silently, squeezing his dad's hand back. They sat there together at the table the rest of the night, and when Stiles' head kept bobbing forward and his eyes dropping, John made him go to bed. As he climbed the stairs he was aware of six people following close behind, but didn't protest. Not even when he slid into bed and Derek climbed over him, moving his body until his back was pulled against his chest. Lydia slid into place on his other side, grabbing his hand and bringing it close to her chest with a sigh. He felt the bed sink with Scott and Kira's weight, while Malia and Liam settled on the floor. His dad came in a moment later and tossed some extra pillows and blankets to everyone, as if the sight of his son sleeping with six other people wasn't weird. And Stiles loved him a little more for that.

 

They all lay in silence a moment, until someone must have turned on a radio app on their phone, and soft, languid music drifted through the room. Stiles closed his eyes with a sigh, telling himself it was okay as he burrowed deeper against Derek and the wolf let out a rumbling growl, his arms tightening around his middle. 

 

And somehow, despite his bed being way too small for so many people and the awkward angle of their bodies, they all fell asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sighs. jesus christ. I hate causing Stiles pain. But it always leads to such beautiful bonding lol


	37. Thanks for the Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The days pass for the pack in a blur, until everyone decides to return to the loft. Once there, an encounter with Derek strikes something in Stiles memory

That next morning Stiles went down to the police station, his dad's hand supporting and firm on his shoulder. As he walked in a few people turned to look at him, and he looked away from their gaze, hating how naked he felt. Parrish was in front of him then, patting his back and directing him to a seat which he took. The next hour Stiles told him everything that had happened at the school. From when he had first started to hear the screams, to when his dad had arrived. There were parts that he went over that were difficult to speak about, and various times his voice broke, but his dad was always there, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder and urging him on. By the time he was done Parrish assured him that the DA would almost positively take it as a case of self defense, and Stiles was in no jeopardy of punishment. Stiles didn't say anything about that, because he was punishing himself enough as it was. The thought of the boy's family came to him then, and Stiles had nearly broken down again. He couldn't help but wonder what they must have felt. Their grief. He wondered if they hated Stiles. If they thought his actions cruel and deserving judgement, and Stiles couldn't really disagree with that. 

 

Two days had passed since the incident at the school. It came as no surprise when the pack found out that school was temporarily suspended, and everyone had been more than happy about the news, except for Lydia, who complained about only one more semester to go before finals and more importantly graduation, so it came as no surprise when Lydia made sure to take at least two hours out of each day to make everyone sit down around the coffee table and study. All except Derek, who sat in the recliner, legs up, grinning smugly down at them. It had only slightly irked Stiles in the beginning, now though, he was close to tackling the damned werewolf with his borrowed powers and show him a thing or two. Those thoughts usually drifted into something far more inappropriate and Stiles always ended up wiggling around uncomfortably on the floor, Lydia yelling at him to be still and Derek staring at him knowingly, his eyes dark and hungry. Stiles was really starting to hate the damned bond between them. He couldn't have one pervy thought without his freaking chest catching fire. On the second night at his house, though, after a few cases of being super annoyed by how crowded it had become with the pack always there, Stiles had suggested everyone return to Derek's loft. The pack as a whole had let out a relieved groan. Especially Derek. Stiles couldn't really blame him. These past few days whenever he and his Dad were in the same room there seemed to be a sort of tension between them, one that made Stiles increasingly uncomfortable, because he knew his Dad well. No doubt John Stilinski knew something was going on between him and the older wolf, and from the looks of it, he wasn't too thrilled. Strangely enough he never brought it up, and Stiles was more than relieved about that. He wasn't quite sure what he would have told his dad, especially seeing as he wasn't totally sure what he felt for Derek in the first place.

 

He had been going over that just the other night while everyone was in the living room watching TV. Derek was beside him on the couch again, which seemed to be his 'spot', but the wolf was stretched out kind of sideways, his upper body against the couch corner and arm, while the lower half of his body fell over the couch to the floor. He had fallen asleep like that, and Stiles had kept finding his gaze drawn to his sleeping form, an intense frown on his face as he looked him over, almost as if he were trying to unravel a mystery. Lydia had apparently caught him looking because when he had turned away again he found her watching him dryly. He had blushed furiously at being caught, slinking down against the cushions and resting his chin against his chest. That night as they had all lumbered up to the bedroom, all seven of them yet again, and Derek had fallen into his bed with a groan, Stiles had just stood there, staring down at him, his expression so completely lost and forlorn. Lydia had took one look at him and rolled her eyes, grabbing his arm and dragging him from the room, shouting out that they'd be back, and not to wait up. Derek had shot up in bed with a stern frown while everyone else had just blinked in confusion. Stiles had been pulled from his house sputtering incoherently, as he was yet again shoved into Lydia's car.

 

As if it were becoming a ritual, they had ended up at Coffee Insomnia, Lydia getting them two large cups of coffee and more danish's. Stiles was half way into his second danish when he finally caved and sputtered out that he may actually like Derek. Lydia had stared at him like he had the brain cells of a sponge, letting out a loud 'no shit!'. 

 

"Don't look at me like that. This is really confusing for me, you know."

 

Lydia rolled her eyes and sighed, sitting her coffee in the drink cubbie before twisting to face him fully. "Why, Stiles? What's so confusing about it?"

 

Stiles twitched self consciously beneath her gaze. "I don't know. We've just had this... _thing_ for years. And not particularly a great thing, you know? Plus there's the fact that he's older which I'm sure my dad doesn't like at all. And I don't know, it's Derek freaking Hale. Have you  _seen_ him? I have no right to be wanting any of that man meat. And I haven't even brought Ryan up yet." Stiles slouched with a sigh. He had Ryan had been texting/calling each other the past few days. The first time Ryan had called him he had been a blabbering mess, trying to apologize for (What he believes was) getting him hurt and making sure that he was okay. Every time he called or texted he asked if he could come over, or if Stiles could meet him somewhere, but Stiles had always found a round about way of refusing. He just didn't know what to do about the Ryan situation. That and to be perfectly honest, Stiles didn't feel quite ready to go out and face the world yet. He knew he was living a false sense of security with the pack at his house these past few nights, one that he would have to break away from eventually and accept the situation for what it was. He had killed someone. People were going to talk. They were going to stare and point and ask him questions. He just wasn't ready for it yet. He may have promised everyone that he would try and get better. That he would try and accept what had happened and even forgive himself, but that didn't mean he didn't still struggle to hold back tears at random points during the day. But this Ryan thing? It was a mess. "I just don't understand how I can like two people at once." He admitted begrudgingly. Because he  _did_ like Ryan. He was smart and funny and so freaking charming. 

 

Lydia's eyes softened slightly. "Sweetie it's okay to like two people at once. What isn't okay is to string them both along. You need to make up your mind of which one you want more."Lydia patted his knee then. "And Stiles you're not hideous, you know. In fact some may say within these past few years you've become pretty...." Lydia huffed a moment, clearly looking pained. "Attractive." At Stiles fist pump she glared at him. "Alright, don't let it go to your head. And yeah, he's older. But he's not  _old_. And I think right now all your dad wants is for you to be happy. And if that means you end up with Derek Hale, well, I'm sure he can learn to live with that."

 

Stiles turned to stare out the window a long moment, thinking over her words. "But still...it's Derek. Don't you think we'd just spend all our time trying to kill each other? Besides. I don't even know how he feels. I mean, don't get me wrong, if this link is really able to let us feel the other's emotions, I'm fairly certain he wants to have sex with me at least."

 

"And what about you? What do you want?"

 

Stiles glanced over at her before looking down at the coffee cup in his hand. "I don't know." He answered honestly. "I'm very attracted to him, and I'd be lying if I said I haven't imagined it before. But as for anything else...." He drew off with a sigh, shaking his head.

 

Lydia watched him a long moment, before picking her cup up again and taking a sip. Silence filled the car for nearly five minutes before she spoke again, and her voice was soft. Hesitant. "You know I really do love Jordan."

 

Stiles looked at her in slight surprise. Her face was red, and Stiles realized he had never really seen her like that before. He thought back to all the times he saw them together. The way Parrish would always place a kiss to her forehead. How Lydia's eyes would always flutter closed with a sigh. He had actually only seen them kiss on the mouth once before, and it hadn't been inappropriate making out or anything like that. He smiled slowly, understanding. "Yeah. I see that now."

 

"At first it was all fun and games. You know me. I love to flirt. And Jordan was just such a mystery. A cute one too, so that helped." She laughed softly."But no matter how much I flirted he would always laugh it off, even though he'd be blushing like an idiot. It was the most adorable thing I had ever seen. And then, the more we were around each other, the more we came to know one another. Somehow my flirting turned into genuinely liking him. Wanting to know everything about him." Lydia looked up at Stiles hesitantly, a fragile look in her eyes. "When I realized I more than liked him I kind of freaked out. After Jackson and then Aiden I had told myself that I wasn't going to do serious again. At least not for a long time. And I hadn't planned on falling for Jordan like I did. I stopped talking to him for a few days. I figured if I did my feelings would just go away."

 

"Did they?" Stiles asked, though he obviously knew the answer.

 

Lydia laughed softly, shaking her head. "The idiot showed up at my house with a bouquet of roses and chocolate. It was the most cheesy cliche thing I have ever seen. But I loved it. We started officially dating that night." She took another drink of her coffee, smiling against the lid. "We've agreed to just take things slow until after graduation. Which is completely new to me. I've always had a tendency to jump right into a relationship. The sex and everything. But this is different somehow. I can feel it. And I don't want to ruin it, you know?"

 

Stiles smiled at her, and for the first time felt like he was seeing the real Lydia. And it was beautiful. "I think you guys are amazing together. And I see the way he looks at you. That man worships you like a goddess."

 

Lydia grinned smugly then. "Well yeah. Naturally."

 

Annnd there was good old Lydia Martin again. Snorting Stiles pushed her shoulder gently, and she pushed his back in retaliation. They sat in her car a moment longer, laughing at nothing and everything, until Stiles phone started to go off, Derek angrily demanding they get back to his house. Feeling very much like a child Stiles griped the whole way back, being sure to let Derek hear an ear full once they were back in his room, much to everyone's enjoyment. Derek cut him off mid sentence with a growl and drug him into his bed, twisting his body until he his back was pressed firmly against Derek's chest. Stiles felt a surge of heat envelope him and stiffened at the same time Derek did. And then groans were filling the room, everyone throwing pillows at them and saying if they were all going to sleep together they'd have to keep their hormones under control. Stiles had yelled at them all, his face on fire. Derek eventually told him to shut up and wrapped his arms around Stiles, pulling him closer and running his nose across the back of his neck. Which lead to about another five minutes of everyone screaming at them, while Derek, the asshole he was, just laid behind him laughing. The last thing Stiles was aware of before falling asleep was Lydia muttering something about maybe she should start sleeping on the floor as well.

 

 

  
**********************************

 

 

The next morning everyone got in their cars and headed back to Derek's loft, while Stiles and Lydia dropped by Deaton's. Stiles had spent the past few days researching all he could about faeries, and had stumbled across various weapons to use against them. But there was one thing that his mind had lingered on all morning. One thing that had filled his belly with a spark of hope. According to the lore, if you used a weapon made of ash, you could purify an evil faerie. When Stiles had first seen that on his laptop he had read over it at least a hundred times, looking around his room to make sure everyone else was asleep. He wasn't stupid. He knew that the rest of the pack was more involved in just stopping the Slaugh any way possible. But the fact that Stiles could maybe fix it? That deep down underneath it wasn't really a monster? It was something that called to him on a spiritual level almost, and Stiles found he couldn't give up the notion. The only problem was the website didn't say exactly what type of ash to use. And there were various forms of ash tree's in California. When they got to Deaton's, he and Lydia explained all that he had discovered (save for the healing by ash bit) and waited while the Druid fumbled around in one of the back rooms gathering various items to take back with them. Deaton had been proud of Stiles findings, telling him again he had much potential. Though what the hell kind of potential Stiles didn't know. It wasn't like it was very hard to pull up google. He didn't say that though. He may have been too busy eating up the praise, however misplaced it might have been. When he and Lydia finally had their hands filled with various heebie jeebie items to take down an entire forest of faeries, they made their way back to the entrance and towards Stiles' jeep. As he opened the door of the clinic, though, he nearly ran into someone and stumbled back with an apology, dropping a few things from his hands and scrambling to pick them up. 

 

A pale hand was picking up a small bottle of herbs and handing it to him then, and Stiles glanced up, haltering as he got a look at the guy that was so pale he could have been an albino if not for his disheveled dirty blonde hair. Stiles got a look at his eyes then, and felt his heart pound in his lungs. They were pale blue. Very pale. Unnaturally pale. Stiles looked up at his hair again, seeking out any white.

 

"Uh..Stiles." Lydia muttered.

 

Stiles realized he had been staring at the man, but also that the guy had been staring back, a frown on his face. Stiles straightened, and so did the man, handing the bottle over. "Thanks." Stiles muttered as he took it, noting as the guys fingertips touched his that he was cool to the touch. Not freezing. Definitely nothing that would give off any alarms, but there was just something...not normal, about the guy that made Stiles suspicious.

 

"My pleasure." The man said with a tight lipped smile before passing by him to head into the clinic, as he did, though, his eyes lingered on Lydia, and Stiles didn't know if he were just looking too much into it, but he could have sworn he saw something flash in them. Something akin to pain. And then he was gone. 

 

"That was weird." 

 

"I know, right!" Stiles swung to look at Lydia. "I was totally getting some weird vibes from him."

 

Lydia stared at him dryly before rolling her eyes and heading to the jeep. "I was talking about you, Stiles!" She called over her shoulder. 

 

Stiles stood there scoffing a moment before rushing after her. 

 

Once they got back to the loft he passed out the various items they had gotten from Deaton, and saw that the other's had gathered iron like tools that they could use. It was nothing fancy, just a crow bar, a fireplace poker, and some wrought iron they had gathered from an old fence. Stiles didn't want to know about that last part. His dad was the Sheriff. He could not be held accountable. As everyone was laying the various herbs mixtures out and making little cloth baggies with them (which Stiles found out could be used as a type of bomb thing when lit and thrown at the Slaugh *or at least he hoped) he moved away from the group, pulling his phone out of his pocket to text Ryan and let him in on the things he could use to try and keep himself safe. For the past few days it had really been bothering him that Ryan was still out there by himself. Well, Stiles knew that he lived with a surrogate family while in Beacon Hills, but it still felt wrong. He felt like Ryan should be there with them, where Stiles could make sure he was safe. Or at least give Stiles some semblance of him being safe. He had considered bringing it up to everyone else a few times now, but each time he had been about to he had taken one look at Derek and immediately decided against it. The wolf had made it clear he didn't like Ryan, even though they had already clarified that he wasn't the Slaugh. Stiles had a feeling that if he were to bring Ryan to the loft, not a day wouldn't go by that Stiles wound't be on the receiving end of that anger. Plus, after Derek had kind of assaulted him the last time, Ryan didn't really feel comfortable around the older wolf, and Stiles couldn't blame him.

 

After everyone got the faerie weapon's situated they decided to train, something that Stiles found a new thrill in. Before all he had ever done was stand to the side and watch, but now with a direct link to Derek's powers? Stiles freaking loved it. He'd take turns with everyone, loving how after each training session his endurance seemed to grow. He loved training with Scott, even though after long it usually just ended in the two of them rolling around on the floor, more so wrestling and laughing than actually training. Kira was a pretty bad ass opponent who had nearly cut his head off a few times with her samurai sword. But after practice Stiles learned to read her body, and could predict how she would move, something that Derek seemed to be pretty impressed with. Malia and Liam he took together. They had a more wild, feral intensity to them when they trained. Always in crouches and half lunges, and sometimes Stiles felt like when they did managed to get the upper hand on him they were going to just go full animal and take a bite out of him. Luckily they never did, though. Lydia was something else entirely. The pack had separately started training her not to long ago in hand to hand combat, and because she was Lydia Martin, she of course exhaled. She didn't have the super strength of course, but she had the coyness and smarts to get her out of sticky situations, and when she needed she always let lose one of her Banshee wails, which had everyone on their knee's.

 

It was the training sessions he had with Derek that he loved most, though. Unlike the others, the man did not go easy on him. At all. He sparred with Stiles as if they were in a real life or death situation, and yeah, most of the time that meant Derek was handing his ass to him, but he needed that. He needed to take this seriously. They had just finished up from one session, and Stiles had just came out of the shower. The pack was in the living room talking quietly around the coffee table, looking at case files of the victims of the Slaugh, trying to piece together any connections, something that Stiles was still having problems with. He bypassed them and headed for the kitchen to grab something to drink, finding Derek bent over with his head already in the refrigerator. Stiles paused a moment, unable to pull his eyes away from the sight of that ass in his tight fitting jeans. A hot tickle of lust slide down to his groin and he forced his gaze away. He had somehow managed to by pass any awkward conversations with Derek about whatever it was that was between them now, but he knew he couldn't put it off forever. Every day the tension between them grew, and Stiles often found himself randomly turned on and breathless from nothing at all. He'd search out Derek then and find the wolf starring at him from wherever he had been, and would realize that it had been Derek's emotions he was feeling. Derek's lust. Of course that thought lead to a fresh dose of his own, and the two would sort of go back and forth like that. Derek's lust. His lust. Derek's lust. His lust. It seemed to never end and by the time it finally did, he was always breathless and light headed, stumbling on his feet slightly. This of course was not lost on the rest of the Pack, who at first had been deeply disturbed to have front row seat's to the private show. But after long they'd just roll their eyes, used to it now. Stiles wasn't sure what to think of that.

 

"What do you want?" Derek asked then, drawing him out of his thoughts. 

 

Stiles looked up to see Derek watching him expectantly, the refrigerator door open. "Oh. I'll just get a water."

 

Derek grunted and reached in for a water bottle, tossing it to him. He leaned back against the counter and took a deep swig of his beer, staring at Stiles a moment.

 

Stiles unscrewed the cap and tried not to twitch under his gaze as he took a drink.

 

"You're getting better."

 

Stiles looked up with a frown.

 

"With training. You're a lot better."

 

Stiles grinned, feeling pride spread through him. "Thanks. I feel like I'm getting better. It feel's good." And it did it felt freaking fabulous. Stiles felt like for once he could actually do something to help other than research. "I just wish I could get the super healing now. My muscles are always killing me." And he tended to wobble at times, which he hoped no one really noticed.

 

Derek put the beer bottle down then and drew forward. "I can help with that, if you want."

 

Stiles blinked up at him in slight surprise. "What?"

 

"The pain. I can take some of it away, if you want." Derek stopped a few feet from him, his hand splayed out on the kitchen table. He looked surprisingly unsure of himself. Nervous even. And it was such a strange expression for him to wear that Stiles found himself nodding just so the look would vanish.

 

"Uh, yeah. Sure." Stiles stood a bit awkwardly, looking around. "Uh. So how do you want me?"

 

The question seemed loaded even to Stiles' ears, and he blushed furiously at himself, inwardly cursing his own use of words. "I mean do you want me standing or on the table?" Oh dear god what was he doing? His heart started pounding painfully in his chest, and Stiles' eyes widened in horror at his own words.

 

Derek released a growl in front of him then, his body growing tense. "Just shut up and be still Stiles!"

 

Stiles nodded on a hard swallow, drawing stock still, staring at a stray piece of lint on Derek's henley. Derek sighed before moving forward, and reached a hand out, his hot grip closing on Stiles' upper arm. Stiles tried not to jump from the contact, and succeeded. Unfortunately the shiver still shot down his spine. Needing to say something to break the tension he opened his mouth and blurted out the first thing that came to him. "So have you still not spoken to Argent?" Jesus Christ! How the hell was  _that_ supposed to make things better?

 

Derek stiffened in front of him, his eyes darkening in emotion. "No." He all but bit out as he began to leech some of Stiles pain away.

 

Stiles nodded vaguely, a moment just feeling the strange sensation of his aches and pains leaving his body, seemingly pulled out from his arm. "I mean, I kind of figured that after Eichen House he wouldn't be coming over anymore to help train me. Which is fine, really. He left me the knives and I'm pretty good without him to teach me. And since I've been able to tap into your power's I'm even better with them. I'm just...he hasn't tried to contact me at all and I find it pretty odd. You haven't spoken to him at all?"

 

Derek's jaw clenched tightly, and he looked like he wasn't going to diverge anything,  but finally he relaxed a bit with a sigh and spoke. "I told him not to."

 

Stiles arched a brow. "So you have talked to him? Why'd you lie?"

 

"Because I didn't want to talk about it, Stiles." Derek drew out angirly.

 

Stiles nodded. He could understand that. Totally. "......Did he say why he didn't tell you about Peter?"

 

Derek pulled away from him, seeming to think he had taken enough pain and raked a hand through his hair. "Yes, Stiles."

 

"Good. I was wondering about that." Silence. "So what did he say?"

 

"Dammit, Stiles! He said that he thought if I knew I would try to do something, okay? That I would plan out some rescue mission and bust him out."

 

"But...Chris knows that Peter tried to kill Scott again. Why would he think you would do anything like that?"

 

Derek turned away. "I don't know, Stiles. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Scott isn't my alpha. Or maybe it's just because even though Peter is a psychotic douche, he's still my  _family_."

 

Stiles frowned, instinctively reaching out and grabbing onto his arm. Derek turned around with arched brows, looking down at Stiles hand. Stiles immediately pulled it away and drew straighter, clearing his throat. "He doesn't know you that well, obviously."

 

Derek stared at him, his eyes searching. "And you do?"

 

Stiles' gaze fluttered away briefly, before looking back. "Well, yeah. I know you'd never do anything to endanger any of us. And while Scott may not be your Alpha, you are still part of the pack, in one way or another. You know that, right?"

 

Derek looked away, his gaze hard, and for a moment Stiles thought he had pushed him too far. Shut him down. He gave an inward sigh and moved to leave the kitchen. As he passed Derek though, the man grabbed his arm suddenly, his grip hard and stilling. Stiles looked up in surprise. Derek was looking at him, and his eyes were an eruption of emotions. But the one that shown the brightest was  _want_. Before Stiles knew what was happening they were both twisting towards one another and suddenly their mouths were crashing together. Stiles released a moan at the first touch, immediately tilting his head to get better penetration. His hands snaked around Derek's neck and drew him closer, and Derek released a rumbling growl low in his throat as a strong arm wrapped around Stiles and pulled him until their bodies were plush against one another. Stiles shivered under his touch, while their mouth's fought against one another for dominance. In all his life, Stiles had never tasted something so addictive. Derek was a seductive combination of spice and smooth vanilla, and the taste of him had Stiles rolling his eyes back in his head. He felt desperate suddenly, and dug his nails into one of Derek's shoulders, anchoring himself. Derek hissed out in pleasure before running his hand until his fingers spanned Stiles' neck and jaw. He tilted Stiles head slightly as he plunged his tongue in deep, and Stiles moaned into his mouth as sensation assaulted him. 

 

Derek was pulling away then, and Stiles whimpered at the loss. Derek shushed him softly though as he began trailing kisses down his jaw and towards his neck, and Stiles' head fell back with a gasp, very much happy with what the would was now doing. He felt Derek bite teasingly on the skin right under his jaw and shivered. When Derek rubbed his bearded cheek against Stiles' neck though, his leg's nearly gave out. He whimpered softly, his fist's gripping hard on his shoulders to stay upright. Derek's mouth closed over a place low on his neck then and began to suck, and something about the act made Stiles freeze. Suddenly images were playing through his mind. Images of a night not too long ago at the loft, upstairs in Derek's room. Stiles frowned, his expression of confusion slowly turning to one of remembrance, and then shock, and finally anger.

 

He wrenched Derek away with a cry of fury, and without thinking punched him as hard as he could in the face.

 

Derek stumbled back, gripping his cheek with a groan. Stiles didn't give him time to process anything, just advanced on him.

 

"When were you going to tell me!" Stiles shouted, his eyes blazing.

 

Derek turned a glare up to him, the bruise on his cheek already healing, and Stiles hated the sight. "Tell you what?!"

 

"What happened between us that night you asshole!" Stiles screamed. He vaguely noticed the rest of the pack piling into the kitchen, staring at the two of them with wide eyes, but he didn't pay them any attention. "Do you know how messed up I've been about that night? I couldn't fucking remember anything but I knew something had happened! I didn't know what the hell I had done, or who with!"

 

A look of guilt passed over Derek's face then, and he looked away. "I'm sorry." He drew out stiffly. "I didn't think--"

 

"You didn't think what, Derek? That I deserved to know?! Holy shit Derek we...that wasn't just a kiss, man! We almost - " Stiles drew off, his gut clenching painfully. "Oh god, did we -"

 

"No! No, I swear." Derek moved towards him, his hand out, but Stiles swore and grabbed the beer bottle behind him on the table, throwing it at Derek's feet where it burst.

 

"Don't fucking come near me!" He yelled. Suddenly the light over them flashed brightly, buzzing loudly, and then it blew. Stiles swore and jumped back as glass flew everywhere, and Derek dunked as well, looking up with a frown. A silence settled over everyone, wide eyes looking between Derek and Stiles, unsure what to do. Stiles stumbled backwards, feeling suddenly drained and weary. He slumped his shoulders, shaking his head. "I was drunk, Derek. I didn't know - I had no idea.....It was wrong." He finally said. Simply. "It was so fucking wrong."

 

Derek just stood there, conflicted, unsure what to do. 

 

Stiles sighed and looked away. "I've got to get out of here." He pushed past Scott and Malia.

 

"Wait. Where are you going?" Scott called after him.

 

"I don't know, Scott. Anywhere but here."

 

"I'll come with you." Scott moved forward and Stiles swung around with a glare.

 

"No!" He yelled angrily, hating the way Scott balked like he had been physically hurt. "No." He repeated a bit more softly. "I'll just go to they station. My dad's shift ends soon. I'll stay with him and Melissa tonight."

 

"Are you sure?" Scott drew out all puppy eyed.

 

Stiles looked over his shoulder at Derek, who was still standing in the same spot, his eyes glued to the floor. "Yeah. Just...give me some time alone. Please guys?"

 

Scott nodded after a moment. "Alright. Just take some of the weapons with you on your way, okay?"

 

Stiles nodded and walked from the kitchen, heading to the living room and grabbing up the crowbar and a few of the baggies. He pulled his hoodie off of the couch, hearing the jingle of his keys in the pocket. And then he left.

 


	38. Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cries* i wrote this entire chapter out my computer crashed. ahhhhh it was the most horrible feeling in the world lol you people better love me for rewriting!!! U_U

Stiles sat in his jeep in front of the police station. He didn't go in though. He knew if he did his dad would take one look at him and know something was up. And the last thing Stiles wanted to do was explain why he was so damned angry. He had a feeling that would not go over very well at all and would most likely lead to something like his dad appearing in Derek's loft with a shot gun, and Jordan standing by who 'hadn't seen anything'. So in the end he just sat there, trying to go though his wide range of emotions. He felt disappointed that Derek hadn't been honest with him. Embarrassed about what had actually happened, but mainly he was so pissed off. They hadn't just kissed. Derek had touched his body. Put his  _mouth_ on his body. Stiles vaguely remembered the man biting down on his hip and groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. He had cum from that. Right next to Derek's face, and while his dick may have still been in his pants, it had happened. How the hell was he supposed to ever face him again? That was if he ever actually spoke to him again. A part of him wondered if he could really trust Derek. The man had after all lied to him twice now. And while he could maybe forgive him for not telling him when Deaton and the wolf had discussed the ritual, Stiles didn't know if he could be so lenient about what had happened between them. 

 

It didn't help that his chest hurt with a hollow ache. Stiles knew that the emotion was Derek's, but had no idea what it could be. He hadn't had enough time to sort out any of the emotions he had felt besides lust, and that was only because Derek felt it so often. And here Stiles thought he was the horny one. 

 

A logical part of Stiles knew that he couldn't be angry forever. Derek was pack, even if only to Stiles. But another, prideful part of him just couldn't let it go, and wanted to hold onto that anger. Because it made him stronger. It gave him a good defense. He and Lydia's conversation the past night came back to him then, when she had asked him what he was so scared of, and he thought he knew it, now. He was terrified of rejection. Derek had a way of making Stiles feel more self conscious than anyone ever had, and Stiles realized it was because he liked him so freaking much. 

 

Jesus. How had they even gotten here in the first place? When was it that Stiles feelings had changed? When he had first met Derek, he hadn't liked him at all. Finding him too brooding, off putting, and careless. That of course didn't mean he hadn't found him attractive. The guy could only push him up against walls so many times before his body started enjoying it far too much, after all. But that night in Derek's loft, after Boyd had died...Stiles knew it was that night that he had begun to actually care about Derek. And then he had left, going to Costa Rica with Cora, and Stiles had missed him more than he had ever expected, spending far too much time alone in his empty loft, staring out at the window in silence. It was a total creeper move, he realized that now. But still. His feelings at that time hadn't been at their highest. That didn't happen until Mexico. When he had seen Derek lying there, dying. Something inside of him had clicked then, and he had been rooted to the spot, shocked over his own discovery. If Derek died...he would have been a fucking mess. Even now Stiles couldn't think about it without getting choked up. 

 

Stiles glanced back up at the police station, but in the end knew that he couldn't go in. He started his Jeep again just as his phone vibrated in his hoodie. Pulling it out he found a message from Ryan and groaned. Jeez. As if he didn't already have enough problems. He still had no idea what he was supposed to do about Ryan. He wasn't dumb. He knew he had to talk to him sooner or later, Stiles was just worried. He hadn't lied when he told Lydia that he liked him. He was smart and funny and so freaking charming. In the very least Stiles owed it to him to at least hang out with him one more time, see how differently his feelings were compared to Derek. 

 

He stared down at his phone a good five minutes, at Ryan's simple greeting, before replying.  ***Hey! Since school's still going to be out tomorrow, what do you say we start on those old detective movies?***

 

Ryan's reply came almost immediately.  **"I'd love to! Just tell me when and where."**

 

Stiles looked up out his jeep window in silence a moment. His dad was back to staying at the McCall house, so he supposed he could always go to his house. There was no way in hell Stiles was taking Ryan to the loft. And while Stiles had technically told the pack that he would stay the night with his dad and Melissa, at the time that had been the plan, so they wouldn't have heard it as a lie.  ***You can just come to my place. My dad's gone for the night so we'll have the place to ourselves. Hope you like popcorn with extra butter and salt!***

 

**"I'll like anything as long as it's with you I'm sure ;) Just send me the address and I'll be there in 20-30 min"**

 

Stiles rolled his eyes and grinned at Ryan's message. Jeez did the dude ever  _not_ flirt. Sending him the address Stiles made sure to sent Scott and Lydia a message letting them know that he was okay and just needed some time and then headed home. He got there in about fifteen minutes. The house was a disaster from where the pack had been staying there the past few days, and Stiles took the time trying to clean as much as possible before the door bell rang. After looking through the peep hole he opened the door with a grin, finding Ryan standing there with two grocery bags in his hands.

 

"I know you said popcorn, but I've seen your sweet tooth in person so picked up a few more things."

 

"Goodies?! Awesome!" Stiles took a bag from him and stepped back so Ryan could enter. He peeked in the bag and groaned. "Oh sweet jesus. Twizzlers, Lemon Heads, Kit Kats and...is that- oh god yes. Ben & Jerry's Half Baked. You sir, are a god among men."

 

Ryan smiled smugly and then leaned in for a kiss. Stiles so so surprised by the action that he didn't have time to react before Ryan was pulling away again, a mischievous grin on his face.

 

"You're a dangerous man." Stiles muttered as he shut the door behind him and walked Ryan into the living room. They laid out the snacks on the coffee table, and Stiles went to get them two spoons for their ice creams. He flopped down on the couch and grabbing the TV and XBox remote turned on Netflix. "So, do you have a favorite of these sultry detective movies?"

 

"Actually I do. The Woman in the Window."

 

Stiles nodded and typed it in, giving a little 'ah-ha' when he pulled it up. He put it on play instantly and cozied down into the cushions, sitting his feet up on the coffee table and cracking open his ice cream. He took a large bite and gave a loud moan at the first touch of the cold sweetness to his tongue.

 

Ryan stared at him with an arched brow. "Has anyone ever told you that watching you eat is almost scandalous?"

 

Stiles snorted. "Yes, actually. What can I say? I like food."

 

"Well I definitely like watching you eat food." Ryan retorted with a grin, but his eyes were hot and heated.

 

Stiles stared at him and gulped, suddenly feeling very conscious of his eating habits, which had never happened before. He slowly pulled the spoon out of his mouth and ate carefully, turning away to hopefully hide the slight blush in his cheeks. "Uh..so...how have you been?"

 

Ryan gave an amused laugh. "What?"

 

"I mean how are you? I haven't seen you since the other day at school."

 

  
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Ryan said softly, looking at Stiles. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me after--"

 

 

Ryan didn't have to finish his sentence to know what he had been about to say. Stiles had known that he would feel that way and hated it. What was he supposed to say, though? I was afraid Derek would eat you. I was sort of having a freak out over the fact that I killed someone. Instead he just went for - "Yeah, I'm sorry. I just needed some time after everything that happened."

 

A look of guilt came over Ryan's expression and his hands tightened around his own cup of ice cream. "I'm so sorry. I feel like if it hadn't been for me you wouldn't have--"

 

Stiles turned to look at the TV absently, not really seeing what was happening on the screen. The memory of what he had done came flashing back to him, and he cringed, drawing in on himself slightly, feeling himself start a downward spiral. The past few days came back to him then. His pack. His family. They had all been there for him. Never once leaving his side. Hugging him whenever he was close to breaking down again, telling him everything would be okay. In all his life Stiles had never felt so loved. They all believed in him and were more than willing to help him get through his. None of them had cared that he'd zone out at times, reliving what had happened. They were all so ready to comfort him in any way he needed, and at various points during the day every time he would pass one of them they'd just reach out and brush his arm or shoulder, or the back of his neck, just to let him know they were there and it was going to be okay. They believed in him to get through his thing, and Stiles couldn't fail them now. Sighing he placed his ice cream down on the coffee table and turned to Ryan. "That's bullshit. You know that right?" Ryan looked up at him in slight surprise. "You didn't make me do anything, Ryan. I did it because I wanted to protect you. I would have done it for anyone. Even someone I hadn't known. I saw a situation, and I did what I thought had to be done at the time. And unfortunately that ended up being me killing someone." Stiles swallowed hard, past the lump in his throat. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't affected by it. Because I am. But I had people there for me to help me through it, and I'll know that eventually I'll be alright again. Not about the situation. I don't think I can every be okay with that. But I'll learn how to live and deal with it so that it doesn't negatively affect me."

 

Ryan stared at him a long moment before putting his ice cream down as well. "I'm so envious of you. Of your strength."

 

Stiles smiled softly. "Well you shouldn't be, because it's not just  _my_ strength. It's all of ours. Combined. It's kind of what we do."

 

"Well then I'm envious of your friendships." Ryan turned his way, leaning back against the arm rest. "I've never really been able to make friends. Not true ones at least."

 

"Well you can't really say that anymore. I'm your friend aren't I?" He gave a crooked grin and wagged his brows.

 

Ryan laughed softly. "Yes, I suppose you are."

 

"And you're more than welcome to hang out with me and everyone else again, you know that right? I mean...things are a little chaotic right now but we wouldn't mind." Well, Derek would, but Stiles wasn't going to say anything about that. 

 

"You only want me there so you're not the odd man out." Ryan said with a laugh. "I imagine it can be a bit strange being the only human of your friends."

 

Stiles gave a slight shrug, small grin on his lips. "I used to feel like that. Not so much anymore."

 

"You really think they won't care?"

 

Stiles snorted. "What? Are you serious? Have you seen you? You're freaking adorable. And that accent? I'm pretty sure Lydia and Kira secretly would kill for you to tell them a bedtime story. Maybe Scott too. He'd just deny it, though, so don't even think about asking him."

 

"And Derek?"

 

Stiles stilled, turning to look at Ryan who was watching him closely. He cleared his throat. "Derek's a grouch to everyone. So don't put too much thought into him."

 

"But you like him, don't you? When I saw the two of you at the hospital it was clear you were close."

 

 

Stiles felt his face go red in embarrassment. "We're close. But all of us are. We've all been through a lot together."

 

Ryan nodded, though by his face he didn't look too convinced.

 

Stiles arched a brow, his grin growing. "Wait...are you jealous?"

 

The other boy's eyes shot back to him. "No." He quickly said, before giving a small grin. "Well maybe just a little."

 

"Awww! That's so sweet! I mean I know all about jealousy, but it's usually on my end, not someone else's." He laughed as Ryan rolled his eyes, scooting closer until their hips were bumping. "Don't worry, it only makes you more adorable, dude."

 

Ryan smiled over at him a moment before leaning forward and placing his lips against Stiles. Stiles paused, his eyes widening slightly. 

 

"Can I?" Ryan asked, looking up at him.

 

Stiles licked his lips and nodded, and then Ryan's hand was snaking around his neck and pulling him forward in a kiss. It wasn't a bad kiss. At all. Ryan had soft lips that seemed to know just how to move against another's. He tasted like twizzlers and mountain dew, a combination that Stiles himself loved. He massaged the back of Stiles neck as they kissed, their lips parting to deepen the kiss, Stiles tilting his head. They sat like that a few minutes, kissing leisurely, neither in no rush. It wasn't until Ryan turned his body slightly, beginning to push at Stiles shoulder, that Stiles pulled away.

 

Ryan looked down at him with a small frown. "Stiles? You okay?"

 

Stiles licked his lips nervously, drawing straighter. "Yeah. Sorry. I just...I don't really know what to do." At Ryan's arched brow he blushed and sputtered. "No! I mean I of course _know_ what to do. It's just that...." He drew off again, his face growing redder, and groan. "Why do I have to be so awkward."

 

Ryan smiled a little, his hand squeezing the back of Stiles neck. "It's okay. It's not a big deal. You have to let me know what you're thinking if I'm supposed to help, though."

 

Stiles nodded, blowing out a long breath before looking sheepishly at Ryan again. "It's just that I'm not sure what _I'm_ supposed to do." At Ryan's confused expression he groaned and scrubbed his hand over his face, figuring he might as well just come right out and say it. "Okay. Look. I've never been with another guy, right? I mean yeah, I've seen plenty of porn and read some stuff and I _know_ what to do. I just don't know what I'm supposed to do. As in....what role...." At Ryan's look of realization Stiles hung his head. Horrified in embarrassment. "Oh my jesus. I just want to die." 

 

Ryan laughed softly, his grip tightening on Stiles neck. "Don't be so embarrassed. It's okay. This is pretty normal. I didn't know either until after some experimentation. And I wish I could tell you, but unfortunately you're just going to have to learn as well. And besides, no matter what it's not a big deal to me. I'm versatile."

 

Stiles arched his brows and looked back up to Ryan. "Oh. So you...."

 

Ryan gave a dirty grin. "Yes, Stiles."

 

"Oh. Well...that actually makes me feel a little better." He gave a small, weak laugh.

 

Ryan's smile turned soft and he pulled Stiles in for another kiss. "How about this...since you've only ever been with girls before, let's just let you take the lead, okay?" As he spoke he leaned back to lay against the arm rest, pulling Stiles down with him, until he was settled on top of him.

 

Stiles smiled a bit bashfully. "I think that would make me feel a bit more comfortable."

 

"Yeah?" Ryan laughed and grabbed onto the back of his head, pulling him down to his lips again. It was easier this time. Their position made Stiles feel in control, and he hadn't been aware that he desperately wanted that at the moment. He told himself it was because of what had happened a few days ago, but something else at the back of his mind whispered another reason, but he muted the voice before he could hear. Ryan didn't seem to mind relinquishing control in the least bit, tugging at Stiles hair and pulling his head closer so he could deepen the kiss. One of his arms snaked down to touch Stiles' side and Stiles jumped slightly, unable to stop a snort of laughter. He apologized immediately, his face hot, but Ryan only seemed to love the reaction and after that kissed him with even more abandon.  They lay like that a few minutes, just kissing, touches going no further than against a shoulder, or the back of the neck, but then Ryan was pressing up against Stiles and Stiles felt his erection pressing against his leg. He still instantly, his eyes opening. 

 

Ryan stilled as well, looked up at Stiles. "Everything okay?"

 

Honestly? No. Stiles didn't know why but the feeling of Ryan hard against him was just...too much. Not right. Stiles himself wasn't even hard, and that made him even more confused. Why wasn't he hard? He was basically lying on top of Ryan, making out with him. He should be hard, right? Maybe it was just too early for him. His body just not ready yet to jump into anything. Stiles pulled away and sat up, scratching at the back of his head in embarrassment. "I think I've got a bit of stage fright." He said.

 

Ryan sat up as well, looking him over a moment before nodding. "It's fine, you know. To take this slow. I don't want you to feel like you have to do something you don't want to."

 

Stiles nodded with a sigh. "Thanks. Wow. This is totally embarrassing. Gotta say I'm not feeling very manly right now."

 

Ryan snorted and leaned over to throw him the bag of twizzlers. "Here. Have some candy. You'll feel better."

 

Stiles grinned, because yeah. Candy always made him feel better. Opening the bag he smiled gratefully up at Ryan as he gathered their ice creams and went to put them in the freezer. When he got back they just sat on the couch close together and watched the movie Ryan had picked out. Which was actually pretty good. So good that Stiles was up for another. He tried to sit there and enjoy the next movie. Really, he did. But his mind started going back to his make out session with Ryan, and his physical lack of response. It was really starting to get to him now, especially seeing as how Derek could just look at him and his dick would twitch. He didn't understand why it wasn't happening with Ryan. Ryan was good looking. He was funny and put up with Stiles' randomness. He was a good friend as well. And Stiles was attracted to him. He knew he was. He just wasn't... _that_ attracted to him? Ah!!! Nothing made sense anymore.

 

Suddenly Stiles found himself angry at Derek all over again, and sat there watching the movie with a kind of glare, chewing hard on his twizzlers. 

 

Fucking Derek.

 

*******************************************************

 

 

Something was brushing against his chest. It was cold. Freezing, and Stiles shivered automatically, moving to cross his arms over his chest. He couldn't though. He couldn't move at all. Frowning, he tried to open his eyes, but they felt glued in place. He felt panic bloom low in his belly, not liking the idea of having no control over his own body. Whimpering softly he focused all his strength in getting his eyes open, and it physically hurt to do so. Finally, faint light spilled in through a small slit. He worked on widening the slit, which seemed far more easy now that he had finished the hard part of prying his eyes open. His lids pulled wide almost instantly, and Stiles blinked, his vision an unfocused blur of dark billowing swirls. No mater how many times he blinked his eyes, though, the strange image never changed. And more importantly there was something familiar about those shadows. The coldness returned to his chest then, to a painful extent and Stiles groaned, trying again to move his body but not able to. Suddenly his jaw was being pulled open, and Stiles whimpered, wanting it to stop. He was aware of something hovering over him, coldness seeping now into his neck, and across his cheeks. It was a horrific sensation and he felt a tear slide from his eye in fear, feeling so incredibly powerless.

 

Twin beacon's of red fire came into focus then, and Stiles blinked at them a moment, confused. As he stared, though, his eyes widened. Eyes. They were eyes. His brain seemed to finally function, taking in everything. The coldness. The shadows. Stiles' heart surged in his chest when he realized what was happening. The Slaugh. It was attacking him. As soon as the realization hit him he felt the most horrible sensation he had ever experienced in his entire life. It felt like something inside of him was being ripped, torn, and pulled up through his chest and mouth. Stiles tried to cry out, but he could not speak. He tried to move his limbs, but they felt like lead against his body.

 

For one blinding moment he thought ' _this is it. I'm going to die_.', and he was filled with so much fucking regret. There was still so much he wanted to do and see. He was only seventeen.  _Seventeen._ He hadn't even started his life yet. He'd never get to watch Lydia Martin become one of the most powerful women the world has ever known. Never get to see Scott and Kira get married, have kids, because he knew it was going to happen. It was so easy to see. And Malia? She was doing so good now. She was so happy with Liam, and while Stiles didn't know if they were going to be together forever, he wanted to see just how much the two could help one another, because they both still struggled. Jesus and his dad. Who was going to take care of his dad? John Stilinski would NEVER made a move on Melissa. Stiles was 100% positive on that. Stiles had to be around to push him into action. And what about Parrish? They still didn't even know what he was, even though Stiles had come up with a few possible theories, he hadn't yet offered them to the guy. Stiles wanted to be there when he found out. He wanted to see the look of relief from finally knowing. And Derek? Stiles did manage to choke out a moan then. He couldn't leave Derek behind. He was  _so freaking broken_ already. Stiles couldn't hurt him by adding himself to the list of the dead. He wanted to help mend Derek back together. To make him realize that there was so much more to him than he believed. Because Jesus there was. That man was layers upon layers of possibilities. Stiles wanted to help him achieve those possibilities, to watch him as he grew, see just how amazing he could be. More than that, though. Stiles couldn't die now. Not without finding out how he really felt about Derek. He owed him that. And Stiles felt like he himself  _needed_ to realize it. That it was such an important part of his life. He couldn't just let that slip away!

 

From low in his belly another sensation began to grow, spreading over his fear and panic until they were both nonexistence. Stiles felt himself suck in a deep breath as  _something_ surged through him. Something white hot and powerful. Something more than anything he had ever felt before and so intense his body vibrated from it. He tried to scream out in fury, willing his limbs to move, and while his voice started out as a small shrill cry at first, it quickly grew in height until he was screaming at the top of his lungs. The Slaugh hissed loudly and jerked away from him, billowing in the air in front of him. Stiles stared at it's form a moment, noticing with large eyes that it was nearly fully formed, smoke only cascading where it's leg's should be. Gritting his teeth he willed his bones to move and jumped up from the couch, running straight through it towards the backpack on his kitchen table. Coldness rushed through him as he passed, and he tried to push the horrific sensation aside. He could hear the Slaugh behind him, screaming out in a animal like shriek, and knew that it was flying towards him. Stiles cursed, digging through his backpack until his hand closed over something cold and hard. He jerked it out and swung around just in time, swinging the crowbar through the creature's billowing form.

 

The Slaugh hissed, it's eyes shooting fiery and it's form wavering slightly in and out of existence. Stiles jerked a small herb baggie from the backpack and rushed around the kitchen table, jerking open a cubbie on the cabinet and pulling out a large grill lighter. He eyed the Slaugh as it's form began to settle again, and flicked the switch on the lighter. The Slaugh jerk's it's gaze to Stiles immediately, watching the small flame. With a glare Stiles set the baggie on fire and as quickly as he could so as not to get burnt threw it at the creature. To his shock, instead of going through it, it hit the Slaugh against the chest and exploded on impact.

 

Stiles jerked back against the sink with wide eyes, watching as the Slaugh turned it's head to the ceiling and screamed out in fury and pain, it's form going crazy, shifting quickly and stretching, before vanishing in a thick swirl of darkness.

 

Stiles stood there a moment, sucking in deep breath's, trying to calm himself. Then he was pushing off of the counter with a gasp, running back to the living room. He found Ryan on the floor in front of the couch. Still. His eyes closed. Stiles fell down beside him. "No no no. Ryan!" He felt the boy's pulse at his neck, and choked out a sob when there was nothing beating back against his finger tips. "Come on don't do this to me." Stiles pressed his hands firmly on his chest and used all his weight to press down five hard pushes. He then grabbed Ryan's head and tilted it back, opening his mouth and breathing into it a few times. When nothing happened he cried out and started all over again. He couldn't die. Stiles didn't think he'd be able to keep it together if he did. Too many people were dying!! Just as he was tipping his head back to breathe into his mouth for the fourth time, Ryan sucked in a gasp, his body jerking. Stiles cried out in relief and collapsed next to him, staring at him with slightly watery eyes as Ryan coughed, rolling over to his side. "It's okay." Stiles said softly, hand on his back. "We're fine. We're going to be fine."

 

Ryan fell back on the floor with a groan, staring up at Stiles with wide eyes. He didn't say anything though, no doubt to shocked to find words.

 

Knowing that he had to let someone know he pulled his cell phone out and sent a message to Deaton. When he was done he fell back on the carpet beside Ryan, staring up at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling in quick inhales. 

 

He had hurt the Slaugh. Had actually managed to touch it. From what Derek had told them about the creature, that must have meant that it was almost fully formed. Which meant that it would now be much harder to defeat.

 

Lifting a hand he began to rub at his chest as the last of the chill was fading away, and vaguely wondered if Derek had felt it as well.

 

 


	39. Seduction

Deaton showed up surprisingly fast. Like, not even ten minutes later fast. It was a little strange, and when the Druid told him that he had 'been in the neighborhood', Stiles had only got more suspicious. He took it in stride though, putting on a killer poker face. Hey, Deaton wasn't the only one who had mastered the look of indifference. His dad and Parrish showed up almost instantly after, and John pulled Stiles in for a nearly crushing hug, only releasing him when Stiles started sputtering for air. Parrish clasped him on the shoulder but was passing him to stand in front of Ryan, who was sitting on the couch. Deaton was standing in front of him, talking to him soft and slowly. Stiles did not miss the look shock on Ryan's face, the slight glaze of his eyes. Feeling horrible Stiles sat next to him, wrapping a hand around his shoulder.

 

"Hey, are you okay?"

 

Ryan looked up at him, blinking a few times. He gave a weak nod. "Yeah. Just...I feel kind of numb."

 

Stiles nodded. "That's normal. It's the shock. You'll feel like that for a bit."

 

"Unless it's because of something else." Deaton said then, his eyes watching Ryan closely.

 

Stiles frowned up at him before understanding and shook his head quickly. "You can't think that it...I mean he looks fine. Considering. He doesn't have any white in his hair and his eyes are normal."

 

"Yes, but the symptom's don't show up immediately, Stiles. It's highly possible."

 

Stiles gut clenched. Ryan looked between him and Deaton with a frown.

 

"What is he talking about? What's wrong?"

 

Stiles licked dry lips before clearing his throat and speaking softly. "He's saying that the Slaugh may have fed off of you. That it may have infected you."

 

Ryan paled considerably, his body beginning to shake slightly. "So I'm going to turn into one of those mindless things? I'm going to start hurting people?!" He jerked back, shaking his head. "You can't let that happen! We have to do something!"

 

"Hey, it's okay. We don't know if that's what happened for sure."

 

"Stiles I was passed out on the floor! What else could have happened?!" He wrapped his arms around his middle tight, beginning to rock back and forth.

 

"Son, we know that you're scared, but we'll figure this thing out." John sat on his other side, a hand on his shoulder. "You're not going to turn into that, okay?"

 

Stiles stared at his dad over Ryan's head, a desperate look in his eyes, and his dad shared the expression because Stiles knew that his words held no true weight. He was just trying to calm Ryan down. "We'll take you to the hospital, okay? Have Melissa look over you. We've noticed that the infected have an abnormally high heart rate and core temperature. It may give us some answers."

 

Ryan stared at the floor a moment before nodding. "Okay."

 

"If you'd like, I could also try and see if the Slaugh left any trace of infection. It will be a spell. Nothing too dramatic. But I will be able to let you know." Deaton told him.

 

Ryan cringed suddenly, before slowly shaking his head. "Uh...I'm not sure."

 

"Of course it's entirely up to you. If you don't feel comfortable doing something like that then I'll understand."

 

Ryan cleared his throat, turning to look hesitantly at Stiles before facing Deaton. "I just don't know how I feel about that yet. I'd rather not do something when I still don't fully understand it. I'm sorry."

 

Deaton eyes shifted slightly, a strange emotion flashing over them and Stiles tried to place it with a frown. Almost as quickly as it had appeared it was gone though. "No need to apologize. It's completely alright. If you ever change your mind though, just let Stiles know."

 

Ryan nodded, tightening his hold on Stiles hand where he had grasped it. "Okay."

 

"Parrish, do you think you could drive Ryan to the hospital?" John asked, standing again.

 

"You don't need to do that. I can drive myself." Ryan muttered.

 

"You sure? I don't mind." Parrish offered.

 

Ryan nodded. "Yeah. Besides I'm sure by the time I'm done at the hospital I'm just going to want to go straight home."

 

Parrish nodded in understanding. "Okay. I'll go ahead and follow you just in case though."

 

Ryan stood a moment later, looking suddenly very small and lost. Stiles hated seeing him like that, wanted to see his flirty smile again. "Do you want me to come with you?" He asked.

 

Ryan looked at him, considering it a moment before shaking his head. "No, it's okay. It's late anyways. You've had a rough night you need some sleep."

 

Stiles drew him in for a tight hug, Ryan's arms wrapping around his middle and not letting go for a long moment. "Don't worry." Stiles said softly against his temple. "Everything will be fine, I'm sure."

 

Ryan nodded against him before finally pulling away, following Parrish towards the door.

 

"I'll message you tomorrow, okay?"

 

He turned a weak smile over his shoulder before leaving the house, and Stiles' shoulders fell with a tired sigh. 

 

"So you want to tell me what the hell you were doing at the house alone?"

 

Stiles cringed immediately, before turning slowly to face his father, who did not look happy. At all. "I wasn't alone." He squeaked out. 

 

His father obviously was not entertained. "Stiles this is serious dammit! You almost died tonight!"

 

"Dad I'm fine! Plus, the weapon's actually worked!" He turned to Deaton with a grin. "When I threw one of those herb baggies at it, it  _actually_ hit it and exploded."

 

Deaton didn't look happy at all. If anything his frown deepened. "It's nearly fully formed then."

 

Stiles' smile fell as well. "Well, yeah. But at least we can physically hurt it now, right?"

 

"Stiles you may have temporarily hurt it, but I highly doubt in the end we'll be able to kill it with herb bags. We still have no idea what can defeat it. And now that it's becoming fully physical there's no telling what kind of damage it's going to do."

 

Stiles sighed, deflating. "Can't we just hope that it's goal was just to be a real boy? And once it's fully formed it will just..I don't know...go away?"

 

"I somehow highly doubt it." Deaton looked at him a moment, his gaze roaming. "You seem...different."

 

Stiles frowned, looking to his dad who just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Uh. Okay?"

 

Deaton seemed to not care to elaborate on that, and instead picked up a medical bag he had brought with him. "What about you? Are you feeling any after effects? You said you believe the Slaugh fed off of you?"

 

"Yeah, but I just feel a bit weak. Tired. Kind of hungry. Nothing too bad. And I kind of stopped it in the process so I know it didn't have time to try and infect me."

 

Deaton nodded, looking up at his dad. "John, as always it's been a pleasure. If you two will excuse me I have some matter's to tend to."

 

Jeez why did the guy just ooze suspicion tonight? With narrowed eyes Stiles watched the Druid leave the house, before feeling a hot gaze on the back of his head. He turned around slowly, a crooked grin on his face to find his dad glaring dangerously at him.

 

"You going to tell me why you were here, Stiles? Or am I going to have to beat it out of you?"

 

"So violent." He grumbled before flopping down on the couch with a sigh. "I was on a sort of kind of date thing, okay?"

 

"A date." His dad repeated.

 

Stiles gave an 'uh yeah' stare before turning his gaze to the TV, where another black and white movie had begun playing.

 

"When were you going to tell me you were dating?"

 

"Possibly never. You tend to go a little over board every time it happens."

 

"I do not go overboard." John scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "So. You're dating a guy."

 

Stiles clicked his tongue and nodded his head. "Yup."

 

"How long have the two of you been dating?"

 

Stiles finally groaned and rolled his eyes, looking up at his dad. "No we have not had sex. We have made out a few times. No groping involved. Happy?"

 

"Jesus, Stiles!" His dad swung away with a groan.

 

Stiles shrugged his shoulders. "What? It's what you wanted to know."

 

"Yeah well next time do me a favor and beat around the bush. Also, don't think you're getting out of this. You were supposed to be at the loft with Scott and the other's. Stiles if you lie to me like this I'm going to start making you stay with Melissa and I."

 

"I didn't lie! Just....didn't fully tell the truth." He finished sheepishly before sighing. "Okay, I get it. I'm sorry, alright. I won't do it again."

 

Before his dad had time to reply at that the door was suddenly bursting open, and the entire pack was fighting to get through. If Stiles hadn't been so surprised he would have laughed at the sight of everyone stuck in the entrance way, giving each other glares and hissing, but Derek finally broke away first and was on him in a second, jerking him up off the couch and looking him over, his eyes intense.

 

"Jesus! What the hell is happening?!" Derek ignored him, turning him this way and that way, grabbing his face and turning it as well. Stiles eventually hissed and pushed his hands away. "Derek what are - oh my god would you - just STOP!" 

 

Derek finally dropped his hands with a growl but his face was still right in front of Stiles. His eyes absolutely murderous. "I swear if you do not start answering you phone I'm going to chain you up at the loft and not let you leave!" He all but bellowed, and Stiles for once was able to keep any smart ass remarks about that to himself. "What happened? I know something happened I could feel it."

 

Lydia and Scott were pressing up against his sides then, looking him over much as Derek had. Stiles hissed and backed away from them, holding up a hand to signal he needed space. "Okay just chill! You're all smothering me."

 

"Stiles, what happened!" Derek bit out through clenched teeth, his eyes flashing briefly blue. 

 

Stiles looked from him to the rest of the pack in the room and finally let lose a sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "The Slaugh came back."

 

"What?!" The word was shouted collectively, and everyone was drawing in on him again, looking him over to make sure he was okay.

 

"I'm fine, I'm fine! I woke up while it was attempting to feed and managed to fight it off."

 

"Fight it off? How the hell did you do that?" Scott asked , remembering how last time they hadn't even been able to physically touch it, only Lydia's Banshee scream successfully hurting it and making it vanish.

 

Stiles licked his lips, knowing that they weren't going to like this next part. "It was almost fully formed. The only part of it that was shadows was it's legs. I used the crow bar to momentarily stun it or something, and then threw one of Deaton's bomb bags at it, and it vanished."

 

"Dude....that's...good and bad at the same time." Scott said with a sigh, looking completely unsure of himself. I mean it's good that we know we can actually start fighting this thing, but if it's only going to get stronger..." He didn't finish his sentence but he didn't need to. Everyone understood what he was implying. The Slaugh seemed unbeatable already. How were they supposed to beat it when it was at it's full strength?

 

"Hey. We can do this." Stiles gripped his shoulder and squeezed. "But I do think it's time we give Argent a call again. We could use him and his men. If this thing is about to become physical then that mean's we'll be seeing it a lot more." He turned to look at Derek to get acknowledgment, but froze when he saw that Derek was glaring dagger's at him, his jaw clenched so tight Stiles could see the vein in his neck bulging.

 

"Ryan was here."

 

Stiles' throat went dry and the blood drained from his face. He could visibly see everyone else in the room flinch, even his dad, which only let Stiles know how incredibly bad this was about to be.

 

"Why was he here, Stiles?"

 

Stiles glanced to his dad, almost as if begging help. His dad just threw up his hands and shook his head. _Actually backed away._ What the hell was that about?! Whatever it was it kind of sucked. Like bad. "We were watching movies." Stiles said.

 

"I thought you were spending the night with John and Melissa." Derek growled, if at all possible his body growing even more on edge. Stiles briefly got a ridiculous and totally out of place thought that if he were in his wolf form his fur would be standing on end. It caused just a bit of amusement to fill him, which kind of helped with the bone deep dread he was presently feeling.

 

"Yeah...uh..I decided against that?"

 

Oh dear god the threatening growl that Derek released was frightening enough to make Stiles actually fear for his life, and he took a slight step towards Scott, just in case Derek wolfed out and came for his throat. Scott luckily did not back away, like his dad had did. And that was why they were best buds! 

 

"Let me get this straight. The Slaugh appeared again tonight. While you were with Ryan." Though the sentence should have really been a question, Derek hadn't said it like one. More so a biting accusation, and Stiles gave a slight nod, wondering where this was going. "Just like it appeared last time.  _When Ryan was at the loft."_

 

Stiles groaned, understanding. "Dude, are we really going over this again? Ryan is not the Slaugh, Derek! In fact, he almost died tonight! I had to give him CPR for nearly five minutes! Deaton came over to check him out. And he's at the hospital right now seeing Melissa! What the hell is going to convince you that he's not the problem?"

 

"Maybe when you stop being so enamored by him and actually see how suspicious his entire situation is! Stiles the Slaugh didn't show up until he came to town. And now the only two times it has show itself to us is when he's been there? How can you be so blind!"

 

Stiles twisted away with a tsk, shaking his head. He paced a few moment, his anger seething before swinging back to Derek. "Why don't you just admit what this is, Derek."

 

Derek's glare turned absolutely murderous. "What are you talking about."

 

Apparently shit had just hit the fan, because the pack quickly took a step back from the two of them, not wanting to be in the middle.

 

"The whole reason you hate Ryan. The real reason."

 

"And what reason would that be?" Derek growled out between slightly elongated fangs.

 

"Because you're jealous!" Stiles all but screamed at him, throwing his hands up in frustration. 

 

For a moment Derek looked like he was going to go full wolf. His fangs lengthened and his eyes flashed and stayed blue, and Stiles saw his nail slide sharp into darkened claws. His fierce gaze zero'd in on Stiles and if looks could kill in that second Stiles would have been six feet under. And then, suddenly, he was laughing. Stiles drew back in shock and confusion, staring at Derek like he had two heads. The wolf wasn't just laughing, he was  _fully_ laughing, head tipped back and chest shaking. Apparently it freaked out everyone else too, because he saw everyone shift uncomfortably around them, shooting confused glances to one another. And then as abruptly as Derek had started laughing, he stopped. His fangs and claws receded until only his eyes were still glowing blue, and the grin that caught his lips was the most wicked and deadly Stiles had ever seen, and just looking at his caused a shiver to shoot down his spine. Derek shrugged a shoulder in complete nonchalance. "You know what? I'll admit it. I was jealous. In the beginning. But now?"

 

Stiles stiffened as Derek began to slowly advance on him, looking every bit the slow, hungry predator. He forced his feet to remain still and not carry him running from the man, like he really wanted to do. Derek didn't stop until he was directly in front of him, their chest's almost touching. Stiles swallowed hard, staring at his adam's apple through a narrowed gaze.

 

"I couldn't be less threatened, Stiles." The way the wolf said his name was absolutely sinful, and Stiles bit his lip hard to keep from moaning. "Do you want to know why?"

 

"Annnd I feel like that's my cue." John said suddenly, shaking his head and walking away from them towards the door. "Scott, make sure he doesn't leave your sight. And if he does, one of you always with him, you got that?"

 

Scott gave a absent nod and with that John Stilinski high tailed it out of there, no doubt too mortified to watch what was clearly unraveling in his living room.

 

Stiles wanted to scream at him to wait, to save him, but he was already gone, the door slamming shut behind him. He licked dry lips, feeling himself tremble when Derek released a low growl.

 

"Do you want to know what happens when you're around him, Stiles?" Derek continued, like nothing had happened, his voice a dark seduction. He leaned closer, until their noses were almost touching, and Stiles refused to look at him. "Nothing." He bit out slowly, drawing the word out into two syllables. "You're heart beat stays at a normal rhythm. You're scent doesn't even slightly change. Nothing, Stiles. That's what happens. Do you want to know what happens when you're around me?" Derek leaned forward then, breathing hot against his neck and Stiles clenched his eyes shut when his body exploded in _need_. He felt his heart immediately pick up from it's already hectic pace and begin to pound against his ribs. His chest burned, scorching his body and surging low to his groin and Stiles clenched his hands into tight fists, trying to resist reaching out to touch Derek. The wolf grazed his nose over Stiles neck and inhaled deep, and Stiles felt chills spread across his skin instantly. Stiles hated the fact that the entire pack was still there, witnessing his traitorous body and what was obviously Derek proving his point. And though it was obvious just what happened whenever Derek was close to him, Derek said it anyways, and Stiles knew it was to shove it in his face. " _This_ is what happens. I can smell your arousal coming off of you in waves. So thick that it's almost feels solid against my skin. Your heart is louder than thunder in my ears, and it's like a desperate plea to me. Do you even realize that? You're body is  _begging_ me, Stiles.

 

Stiles sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He drew back slightly, finally looking into Derek eye's, glaring. "I don't care what it's doing. It's not going to happen." He drew out slowly. And son of a bitch why did it seem to hurt just saying that? "Not after what happened."

 

For a brief moment a look of pained guilt crosses Derek's face, and he draws back slightly, before his gaze is hard again. "I know what I did was wrong. And I've fucking thought about it constantly. But I'm not going to keep saying sorry to you, Stiles."

 

"And I'm supposed to just forgive you just like that?" Stiles bit out angrily.

 

"You won't be able to stay angry at me forever, Stiles." Derek looked him over a moment before finally pulling away, putting some distance between them. "Even though you may want to."

 

Stiles gave a bitter laugh. "How can you be so freaking narcissistic?"

 

"It's got nothing to do with that." Derek ran his eyes over him again, inhaling deep. "It's all about your scent. It gives you away. You're already half way to forgiving me."

 

Stiles' jaw dropped, and he went to hurriedly deny it, but found he couldn't. It was true. Son of a bitch it was true. He sneered in anger at himself. "Fine! That may be true. I'm still pissed as shit at you though! And I plan to draw it out as long as possible!" And he knew the wolf would be able to tell the truth in that.

 

Derek just grinned, his eyes sharp. "Go ahead. I'll enjoy every minute of trying to make you break."

 

Stiles' eyes widened in shock and his face shot blood red. Before he could even begin to say anything about that Derek was turning and walking towards the door.

 

"Bring him back to the loft!" He shouted out to no one in particular. "Oh, and Scott?" Derek paused, looking over his shoulder at the Alpha with a smirk. "Now would be the time for you and Kira to start up a new bet." And then, like the asshole he was, just left.

 

Stiles stared at the door with his jaw dropped, silence filling the room until Scott cleared his throat. Stiles immediately swung to him. "What the hell was he talking about? What bet?!"

 

Scott gave a pained face while Kira looked away sheepishly, twiddling her fingers. "Do we really have to talk about this? I think I've had just about as much Derek/Stiles angst I can handle for one night."

 

Lydia was in front of him then, her eyes wide. "I was wrong. You don't need to hurry up and figure out what you want. Take all the time you need. Actually draw it out as much as possible. Because that?" She threw her thumb towards the door. "Was  _hot_."

 

Stiles stared at her in horror as she pulled away from him and gave Kira a high five.  _An actual high five._ What. The. Literal. Fuck?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's come to my attention that a few of you are wondering who the man Stiles and Lydia saw at Deaton's clinic was. If you weren't aware it was actually Hutchins.
> 
> And mmh. Derek's little speech of how he isn't threatened sexually by Ryan deserves three snaps in an S formation!!!!! MMH!! NO. HE. DIDN'T! lmao


	40. The Bitter Truth

Scott and the rest of the pack drag him back to the loft, and Stiles would be lying if he said he hadn't been kicking and complaining the entire way. He had been so opposed to the idea that he had almost called his dad to let him know he'd just stay with him and Melissa, but Lydia seemed to have known what he had been thinking and threatened no more late night runs to Coffee Insomnia or danishes. That had settled that. Stiles really liked danishes. Once back at the loft Stiles had hoped that Derek would be upstairs in his room so he wouldn't have to see his freaking ugly (so hot) face again. But unfortunately he was sitting in the recliner all relaxed looking with a book in his hand, reading. Stiles had stared at him wearily a moment, but when all Derek had done was give a brief greeting to everyone, not even glancing up, Stiles had calmed. Apparently the douche face was done trying to make Stiles live a living hell. For the night at least. 

 

Or so he had thought. 

 

The pack had settled down in the living room to go over their new information on the Slaugh, and ways they could possibly fight back. Stiles had stood to go to the bathroom and glancing up, noticed that Derek was no longer in his recliner. Thinking he must have went off to bed Stiles had headed down the hall and nearly ran into Derek as he came out of the bathroom. Stiles had managed to stop just before impact though, and he couldn't even begin to go over how relieved he had felt about that. The last thing he needed was any touching between the two of them. Derek had smirked down at him in that annoying way of his before moving to walk past. The only thing that Stiles felt was a soft brush against his neck, but somehow it was enough to set his body into a raging inferno. Stiles had swung around with a gasp, but Derek was already turning the hall corner and heading back for the living room. Stiles, ever a one for words, had sputtered angry incoherent words before slamming the bathroom door behind him.

 

About two hours after that, when his eyes were drooping and he was having trouble keeping up with the other's, he had stood and headed for the kitchen to grab something sugary. After grabbing a soda from the fridge he had searched the cabinet's for anything sweet, finding a secret stash of Twinkies and reaching up to grab them. The next thing he knew there was a hot pressure against his back as Derek leaned against him, his arm lifting to grab some chips near the Twinkies. Stiles had dropped the Twinkies on a gasp, pressing towards the counter to try and get away from Derek. Derek had just reached around him and took the Twinkies before settling them at Stiles clenched hands. The intimate press of his front against Stiles' back had sent his blood rushing immediately to his pants, and Stiles had bit down hard on his bottom lip to try and use pain to kill some of the lust he was no doubt giving off. Derek had lingered only a second before backing away with his chips and turning to head back to the living room. 

 

Stiles had swung around with a narrowed glare. "I swear to god if you don't stop!"

 

Derek had turned an arched brow his way. "Stop what, Stiles?" He tried in his best innocent voice.

 

"With the touching! Stop it! Now!"

 

Derek had looked at him in mock confusion. "But why? You want me to touch you."

 

"What??! I - when - NO! Just no!" Stiles had sputtered at him a moment. "I'm just channeling your weird ass wolfy touchy feely thing! Pack instincts and all that crap!"

 

"How is it that you always forget I can tell when you're lying." Derek muttered, and this time the look of confusion on his face was real. 

 

'"I wasn't lying! I  _am_ channeling pack instincts!"

 

Derek had arched a brow at him. "Mm-hm. And you don't want me to touch you?"

 

Stiles had opened his mouth, but in the end had been unable to say anything. When Derek's look turned smug he had tore open a Twinkie wrapper and shoved half the thing in his mouth before stomping past Derek and back into the living room, his face red. He did not like this Derek. This smug, teasing,  _seductive_ Derek. It was so much harder to deal with than the man's usual grumpy and brooding self. But son of a bitch it just made him hotter somehow. A part of Stiles was actually kind of glad to see the wolf seemingly having fun for once; even if it were at his own disposal. But that part of him was obviously suicidal. He should not pay any attention to that part. When he had entered the living room again everyone was trying to hide their smirks, while Scott was just staring at him in a way that clearly said he felt sorry for Stiles. 

 

After about two more hours of research the group had decided to crash. It was already early in the morning, so they'd all more than likely sleep half of the day away. Stiles had been standing there contemplating the sleeping arrangements when Lydia had pulled him to one of the two guest rooms, and after pushing him down into the bed had crawled in after him, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Stiles had laid ram rod stiff a few moments, eyes wide and having no idea what to do. Once upon a time he would have given anything to be lying with Lydia in a bed. Now? Now it just felt slightly awkward. He could totally understand the entire pack having shared cuddle times the past few days at his house. But him and Lydia just lying in a bed alone was not exactly the same thing. Lydia, on the other hand, looked completely comfortable, and after a few minutes she peeked her eyes open and glared at Stiles, telling him to stop being weird and just sleep. Shortly after she had fallen asleep, and Stiles found himself relaxing and before long he was completely comfortable. 

 

He did not fall asleep though. At least not right away. He kept going over the events of the night, unable to stop thinking about the Slaugh. About Ryan lying on the floor, not breathing. And then about Deaton. He kept remembering the strange look that had crossed the man's features briefly. There was something about that look that he couldn't forget. Something vaguely familiar. It was nearly five in the morning when he finally fell asleep.

 

************************************

 

 

Stiles woke to the sound of his phone buzzing. Groaning he cracked open his eyes and looked around him, noting with mild amusement that Lydia, like him, slept almost completely sprawled out. Which meant that they were pretty much a tangle of limbs. One of her arms was across his neck, one of his was against her chest. He hurriedly removed it before she woke up and claimed sexual harassment. Sitting up he carefully pushed her leg off of him and rolled over to grab his phone lying on the floor. He saw that it was only a little after nine and groaned again. Pulling up his messages he found one from Ryan and released a sigh of relief when he saw that Melissa had told him everything seemed normal. Rolling out of bed and trying not to wake up Lydia, he grabbed some clothes from his duffle and headed to take a shower.  After starting the water and stepping under the hot spray his movements became automatic, while his mind traveled outside of the loft and went over the past few days. Weeks. Something was happening in his brain. A familiar process of wheels turning and fog lifting. And the more Stiles stood there thinking, the more uneasy he became. 

 

When he was done washing he hurriedly dried off and threw on his clothes, rushing out of the bathroom to the living room and gathering the case files. He stared down at them a long moment, going through every one of them, before grabbing a notebook from his backpack and a pen. He must have sat there at least an hour, chewing on his pen cap and reading through the papers, randomly jotting down something on his notebook, before his stomach started rumbling hungrily and he could no longer ignore it. Sighing Stiles closed his notebook and laid his pen down, heading to the kitchen and starting a pot of coffee. The loft was quiet, but by the clock on the wall it was already nearly eleven and he knew that everybody would be up sooner or later so he decided to make himself useful and cook for when they were awake. After searching Derek's fridge he managed to find a pack of bacon and the ingredients for an omelet and set to it. He poured himself some coffee when it was finished and took a sip, cringing at the bitterness, but knowing Derek drank the stuff black so he wouldn't have any creamer. Sitting it down on the tab;e he returned to the omelet, staring down at it silently, thinking. Minutes went by while the only sound was the ticking of the wall clock, and when the omelet was done he grabbed a plate and slid it on, turning to sit at the tab;e. 

 

The sight of Derek sitting there, drinking coffee nearly made him drop his plate. "Holy- oh my - What the hell, Derek?!"

 

Derek just arched a brow at him as he took a sip of his coffee. "I called your name a few times but you never answered."

 

Stiles noticed then that Derek was drinking his  _own_ coffee. Which meant he had actually come into the kitchen and poured himself a cup. And Stiles hadn't even heard him. Jeez. Talk about lack of survival instincts. Sighing he slid the plate in front of Derek and returned to the stove. "So you've just been sitting there staring at me? Way to be a Creeperwolf."

 

Derek rolled his eyes at the new nickname before looking at Stiles' back again. "I was enjoying watching you move."

 

Stiles dropped his spatula and wore softly when it made a mess of his otherwise perfect amelet. He could practically feel Derek's grin. "Is this your new thing? A new personal challenge to see how much you can make me twitch in a full day?" Because, honestly? He wasn't used to Derek being up and front about what he wanted. And yeah, the fact that he obviously wanted  _Stiles_ was more than messing with him a bit.

 

"That's the way it's always been, Stiles." Derek replied smoothly, like it wasn't a thing in the world. And really Stiles guessed it wasn't. Hell even he had taken pleasure in seeing how often he could get those bushy brows of Derek's to furrow . If he really looked at it, nothing had really changed between them. And that was...weird.

 

He cleared his throat, needing to change the conversation. I've been thinking about the case files. How they could be possibly connected."

 

Derek stared down at his omelet he had yet to take a bit out of before sliding it to the space beside him and standing. "Sit. I'll make the rest."

 

Stiles glanced over his shoulder with a frown. "Huh? Nah I'm fine man. Seriously sit down. Derek you don't have to - uh! Okay jesus no need to man handle!" Glaring Stiles held up his hands and moved away from Derek who had begun to crowd him and push him away. Stiles grumbled under his breath before moving to sit at the tab;e.

 

"So have you found out anything yet? With the case files?"

 

Stiles stared at Derek's back with a sigh, watching as he started cracking a few more egg's to make  more omelet's and fiddling with the bacon to make sure it didn't burn. "Not really. We thought in the beginning that the Slaugh may have been a student at our school and that he was killing off the bullies, as cliche as that sounds. But not all of the victims were in high school, and some of the ones that were I knew personally. And they weren't bad people." Stiles stared down at his omelet, his gut clenching painfully.  "I just feel like I'm missing something. It's like it's on the tip of my tongue and I can't get it. It's really starting to drive me insane."

 

Derek grew tense, and Stiles could tell by his profile as he moved the bacon to a plate laced with paper towels to drain that his jaw was clenched and his brows furrowed. He knew automatically what the man was thinking, but surprisingly, he didn't say a word. 

 

Stiles knew that he still thought Ryan was the Slaugh, and honestly, Stiles wasn't so petty anymore to just think it was because of the 'relationship' he and Ryan had. Stiles got it. Really, he did. Ryan coming to Beacon Hills and the Slaugh appearing seemed to go hand in hand. But Ryan had been there both times. Had seen the Slaugh in the same room. It couldn't be him. Not unless the guy could somehow have some weird kind of outer body experience. 

 

Stiles hand froze midway to reaching for his coffee. He stared down at nothing, frowning. 

 

"...Stiles?"

 

Stiles jerked slightly, looking up at Derek with wide eyes. "What?"

 

Derek frowned at him a moment. "I was saying that you'll figure it out. You always do."

 

Stiles' gaze lingered on his a moment, warmth spreading in his chest. Derek's eyes were open. Honest. He trusted Stiles completely, and it was such a startling realization that Stiles forgot to breathe for a moment. 

 

Derek's eyes broke away first, his gaze turning to look past the kitchen. "Scott and Kira are waking up." He said before turning back to the stove.

 

Stiles nodded silently, a moment later smiling at Scott and Kira as they took seat's beside him, both of them wrapping him in a half hug before settling. They started talking then, but Stiles didn't really hear what they were saying. He was still hung up by the way Derek had been looking at him. They may have been the same in many ways, but they were also so different from how they had once been. Derek had never really trust him, he had made that clear in the beginning. Hell, he had told Stiles that night in the pool at school. And while that had been when they had first met, it had still been pretty obvious later as well. Things had changed, though. They had grown closer and become friends. But somehow despite all that Stiles was only now realizing how much they relied on each other. Stiles...kind of needed Derek, didn't he? Like honest to god needed him. Feeling a little overwhelmed Stiles cleared his throat and forced himself to take a bite of his omelet. "Scott my man, what are your plans for the day?"

 

Scott glanced over at Kira with a small grin. "We actually have kind of a dinner date with Kira's parents."

 

"Aww are you going to get the father's permission to ask her hand in marriage?" Stiles teased.

 

Scott blushed slightly before elbowing him in the side while Kira giggled. "Oh shut up. What about you?"

 

Stiles chewed a moment before shrugging. "My dad's shift doesn't start until later tonight so I was going to hang out with him some. Well. Actually he threatened to throw me in a jail cell unless I spend the day with him so he can make sure I'm okay." He rolled his eyes. "Why are parents always so dramatic?"

 

Lydia shuffled in then, her hair a tangled mess and her pajama's frumpy, yet somehow she looked gorgeous. She groaned and pushed Stiles over on his chair before moving to share the seat with him. She took one look at his coffee and moaned, grabbing it instantly and taking a large drink, nearly gagging afterwards. "Derek I know you like all things bitter, but the rest of us younger people here need things like creamer."

 

Derek rolled his eyes as he sat the plate of bacon down in front of everyone, grabbing a piece and popping it in his mouth. "I'll pick some up today. Anything specific?"

 

"Sweet. That's all we need."

 

Derek muttered something about 'teenagers' before leaning against the wall, eating his omelet.

 

"What are your plans today, Sleeping Beauty?" Stiles grinned down at Lydia, who glared up at him through a yawn.

 

"I've got to spend the day with my dad. He and my mom are doing the whole 'let's win her affection with new shiny things' thing again."

 

Stiles arched a brow. "And you've got a problem with that?"

 

"Of course not. Why would I? I like new shiny things." She smiled wickedly up at him before nibbling on some bacon. 

 

About ten minutes later Liam and Malia came stumbling into the kitchen to eat, and for the next thirty minutes or so everyone just hung around talking about nothing and everything. Enjoying one another's company. When Stiles glanced at his cell and saw that it was going on noon he gathered the case files and put them all in his bookbag, aware of Derek watching him as he did so. He tried to act as normal as possible. To control the way his hands wanted to shake slightly and hoped that he wasn't giving off a nervous smell. He told everyone bye then, and once he was out of the loft hurried to his jeep. He didn't pick up his phone and call Parrish until after he was at least five minutes away from Derek's. Parrish picked up almost immediately, his voice thick with worry. Stiles hurriedly assured him that everything was okay before going into the reason he had really called, his hand tightening on the steering wheel.

 

Soon after he was pulling in to the McCall house. His dad opened the door as soon as he got out of his jeep, looking him over before stepping aside so Stiles could enter.

 

"You're late. May shift starts in four more hours."

 

"Yeah I know. Sorry. We all kind of had a late morning." He followed his dad into the familiar house, glancing around a bit, realizing that he hadn't been there in a while. When was the last time he had hung out at Scott's house? It seemed like ages ago. As a kid the house had been his second home. Hell he even had a key made. Various keys, actually. Hidden in different places because when Melissa got irritated at him she tended to take the key back. Jokes on her, though. 

 

"How are you feeling?" John cast a glance to him as he took a seat on the couch in Scott's living room.

 

Stiles fell back against the couch with a sigh, putting his feet up on the coffee table. John immediately glared at him and he took them down with an eye roll. "I'm fine, dad. Just a little tired. Ryan sent me a message this morning to let me know Melissa said that he checked out fine."

 

"Good. You still know that we can't quite be sure yet though, right?"

 

Stiles nodded, not saying anything. Because he did not want to think about it. "What's been going on with you and Melissa."

 

Subject change, success! John twitched instantly, clearing his throat and drawing straight. "All has been fine. We both manage to get just enough sleep by taking shift's watching over each other."

 

"You're sleeping in the same room still, right?"

 

John scowled at his son. "Yes, Stiles. Is there anything else you want to know?"

 

Stiles gave a crooked grin and shrugged. "I'm just looking out for you, dad." He grabbed the XBox remote and searched through the TV shows a moment. "So have you guys kissed yet?"

 

Sheriff Stilinski had a very Stiles moment as he proceeded to choke on his own saliva. "What the hell are you talking about?"

 

"Oh come on, dad. You're not fooling anyone. I know you've been carrying a torch for Melissa for a while now. You're not exactly smooth, you know."

 

John opened and closed his mouth a moment, before glaring at Stiles. "And what about you, Stiles? What's going on with you exactly? You tell me the other day that you're having 'feelings' for Derek Hale. Then you say you're dating this Ryan kid, and then last night when Derek showed up - you know what? I don't even want to discuss that. I spent all of last night trying to get the image of the two of you out of my head!"

 

Stiles recoiled with a cringe. "Ew, Dad! Not cool!"

 

"Well what do you expect?! So what are you doing, Stiles? Are you dating Ryan or Derek?"

 

Stiles glared at him, hating how the tables had been turned so easily. "Okay I won't talk about you and Melissa again! So can we please just watch TV before I die of embarrassment?"

 

"That's what I thought." John muttered before relaxing back again. They watched the TV in silence a moment until the doorbell rang, and Stiles went and got the pizza that his dad had called in before he got there. He opened it up on the coffee table and was grabbing a slice before his dad slapped his hand.

 

"You'll get grease all over the couch."

 

Stiles glared at him as he walked to the kitchen and took out two plates and a roll of paper towels before bringing it back. Stiles grabbed one of the plates and put his half of the pizza (extra cheese, extra pepperoni hell yeah!) on it. He watched his dad stare begrudgingly at his veggie pizza, like it were the devil incarnate, and tried not to grin.

 

"So where are you guys on this creature?"

 

Stiles chewed loudly a moment before swallowing. "Well, now that we can physically hurt it, we've been thinking of weapons that can do some real damage. According to the Se-" Stiles drew off, realizing he had almost let slip their little visit to Eichen House. He cleared his throat before continuing. "To research this thing is supposed to be nearly unbeatable once it's fully formed, but you can pretty much kill anything if you cut it's head off. Or so Scott says."

 

John choked on his bite of pizza, and Stiles leaned forward with a grin, hitting him on his back a few times before he straightened again, his eyes watery. "Let me get this straight. You guys are going to try and cut it's head off?"

 

Stiles shrugged, chewing on some more greasy goodness. "It's kind of all we got right now. This thing is a sort of Faerie. And Faerie's are notorious for being tricky to kill. What is deadly to one could hardly leave a scratch on another. It doesn't help that this thing is so obscure in the lore than it's nearly impossible to research." Stiles gritted his teeth, shaking his head in frustration. "I'm just - I  _hate_ this. We've all been through so much. Faced things that have nearly broken us, but we've always found a way. It just feels like with each day that passes we're further and further from finding this thing, which means more people are going to keep getting hurt."

 

John watched his son a long moment, desperately wishing he just fix everything, like he had been able to when Stiles was younger and his needs were easier. "You should know that the hospital is calling in the CDC." At Stiles wide eyes he gave a slight nod, sighing. "I know. But with all the infected victims vomiting black fluid and dying, they've begun to think it must be a new virus or disease of some kind. Melissa let me know they made the call this morning. And knowing the CDC it won't take long for them to get to town."

 

"Oh god." Stiles set his plate on the couch and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands on his head. "This is so incredibly bad, Dad. They're not going to find any logical explanation for this, you know that right? This is purely supernatural. Which makes us even more fucked." John didn't bother to reprimand Stiles for his language. He understood his worry. "Dad this is attention we really don't need. The world isn't ready to know about the supernatural. I don't freaking want my friends to be dissected!"

 

"That's not going to happen. I won't let it." John said, his eyes serious as he stared at his son. "We're going to get through this, Stiles. It won't last forever."

 

Stiles didn't say anything, just leaned back on the couch with a sigh and replaced his plate on his lap, taking a bite of his pizza, though it suddenly tasted like cardboard in his mouth. It felt like everything that could go wrong  _was_ , and now with the threat of the CDC...Stiles had never felt so overwhelmed and completely helpless. He couldn't take seeing innocent people killed or turned into mindless monsters, trying to kill other's anymore. Couldn't take not knowing, the constant threat of being attacked in his sleep. He had to figure this out. Now. Before someone he truly cared for was hurt.

 

 

***************************************

 

After his dad left for work Stiles was forced to meet up with Lydia, Derek making it loud and clear after various threats that he was not to be alone at any time. If Stiles hadn't been so damned annoying with the wolf he would have felt a bit warm and fuzzy over his worry. As it was the warm and fuzzies were buried over a sea of frustration and really wanting to kick Derek in the face. Too bad he was sure he couldn't get his leg that high. Though the image of a size 11 shoe print on Derek's big handsome face was enough to send him in a laughing fit for a good five minutes. When he met Lydia at her house she was going through about a dozen shopping bags, admiring the flashy clothing that her father had bribe bought her. Stiles was both annoyed and somehow humbled to find out that two of those bags were for him. How the hell Lydia had gotten her dad to buy men's clothing he didn't know, but he suddenly found himself giving her a lot more props. 

 

After looking through the bags at the clothes (which consisted of mostly skinny jeans, some vest's and tee shirts - many of which surprisingly had been of the graphic variety) he had settled at Lydia's desk and pulled out his laptop and notebook while the red headed banshee had resigned herself to flopping back on her bed and getting into what would most likely be a long text session with Parrish. After about an hour in Lydia said something about watching a movie and he gave a grunt of acknowledgement, looking up at some point and seeing the Notebook playing, which wasn't very surprising. He gave a dry stare to Lydia, because he knew she had to have seen the movie at least a thousand times, but found that she was asleep against her pillows, clutching her annoying dog to her chest, which was eyeballing Stiles with a 'please save me' look. Stiles gave it a sympathetic  smile before turning back to his laptop screen. He let lose a soft sigh and ran his hand over his face and hair, blinking his eyes a few times to try and clear them. Realizing that he hadn't checked his phone for the better part of three hours he moved across the room from where he had it charging and picked it up, seeing that he had ten new text messages. Stiles groaned slightly when he saw that most of them were from Derek. After texting the Sourwolf and letting him know he and Lydia were still hanging out, he did the same to his dad and Scott, and then paused, staring down at a message from Ryan. 

 

Licking slightly dry lips he replied to the greeting, asking him how he was doing. Ryan messaged back, letting him know that he was still a little freaked out from last night but otherwise okay. He also asked if Stiles was free to hang out. Stiles looked over at Lydia, and then turned to stare blankly at the TV, not really seeing the movie playing. After a few moments he replied, telling Ryan that he was going to be pretty busy the rest of the night and maybe they could reschedule. A few minutes past before Ryan texted back, a bit disgruntled but understanding. Releasing a soft sigh Stiles set his phone on the desk and turned back to the desk, opening up the case file of the first victim again, the one that he and Malia had nearly ran over. For about the thousandth time that day his eyes were drawn to a a few lines on the paper that held her address. He stared at it a long moment before returning to his laptop, opening up a new tab and pulling up google. He typed in the girl's name and her address and set about trying to get as much information on her as possible. Apparently Elizabeth Kindle had been a pillar of the community, even though she had only been twenty three. She had been a part of various charities and spent almost every weekend at soup kitchens volunteering. She had lived with her mother and father, her mother working from home and her father a lawyer. From what Stiles read she had been a completely decent person without a mean bone in her body - which clearly threw out their theory that the Slaugh was choosing bullies as it's victims, though they had pretty much scratched that after the latest school occurrence. 

 

Sitting back with a sigh Stiles stared at the laptop screen a long moment, trying to see something that he may have missed. Something that would make everything clear. He had nearly given up and was about to close his screen when something caught his eye. It was a group of organisations that Elizabeth had been a part of, one in particular that seemed vaguely familiar and had him frowning. He copied the name of the organisation and pasted it in a new google search, clicking on the first thing that popped up. When the screen populated he frowned, eyes scanning the page before clicking on an 'ABOUT US' page. A moment later he was pulling away from the laptop, his eyes wide and hands slightly shaking. He sat there a full twenty minutes, lost in his own chaotic thoughts before returning to the laptop, searching through the site. When he couldn't find what he was looking for he glanced at Lydia before grabbing his cell and quietly leaving her room. He moved the the bathroom and after dialing a number held his cell to his ear, pacing the small space.

 

Danny picked up on the third ring.  _"Stiles?"_ The boy asked, as if he couldn't believe his old school buddy was really calling him.

 

Stiles gave a short eye roll. "Yes, Danny. It's me. Don't sound too excited."

 

"Sorry, I'm just a bit surprised. I haven't heard from you in a while." Danny said on the line.

 

"Yeah I know. And you're going to hate me for this but I need your help."

 

Stiles could hear Danny sigh. "Why do I have a feeling it involves something illegal?"

 

"Because you know me so well." Stiles said wryly before growing serious again. "I need you to hack into a local organization here in Beacon Hills and find their member's list."

 

Danny groaned. "Dammit Stiles I thought I was done with this the moment I left Beacon Hills."

 

"Sorry buddy. You don't get away that easily. None of us do." He added softly. "This is important, Danny. I don't know if you've spoken to anyone lately but some real bad shit is happening here. People are dying. Lot's of people. I really need you to do this."

 

Danny paused a moment, and Stiles could almost hear the moment he gave in. "Okay fine. What's the name of the organization?"

 

"The organization is Global Giving, but I need the member list of the Assimilation Program, nothing more than the past two months."

 

"You better love me for this, Stilinski."

 

"If I loved you any more I'd marry you." Stiles said with a grin.

 

"Yeah, yeah. Don't tease me. Alright. I'll go ahead and see what I can find. I'll email you the list, okay?"

 

"Alright. Thank you, Danny. It mean's a lot."

 

"You're damn right it does. And Stiles, I'm not sure what's going on over there, but don't do anything stupid, okay?"

 

Stiles smiled slightly. "Are you really telling me that?" Stiles had no way of knowing but he just imaged the boy rolling his eyes.

 

"Yeah, you're right. Alright, I'm on it."

 

Stiles said a quick bye and hung up the phone, staring at his reflection in the mirror a moment before leaving the bathroom and returning to Lydia's room. He saw that she was still asleep and sighed in relief, putting the Notebook on play again in the hopes of the background noise would keep her under longer. He sat at the desk, his knee bouncing up and down anxiously as he waited. Eventually he couldn't stand waiting any more and started going through the other case files, trying to piece together something, anything that could defer him from the track his mind was presently on. 

 

Minutes later his phone buzzed, and Stiles felt his gut clench anxiously. He stared at it on the desk a long moment, almost not wanting to look at it, but eventually picked it up and opened up the email. He clicked on the attachment and waited for the list to download, and then bit down hard on his lip as it populated. His eyes searched over it a moment, before landing on one name. And just like that Stiles felt like his world was crumbling. 

 

Fighting back a choked cry Stiles clenched his hand around the phone tightly, hanging his head and shutting his eyes. He felt a panic attack beginning to crawl up his stomach, but forcefully pushed it down. He didn't want Derek to feel anything through their link. Couldn't let the man know that something was going on. Stiles stared at the name again, glaring at it, almost as if he were willing it to go away, but it didn't. He tried to think of anything that would turn him in another direction then, any other possibility other than what he knew was the truth. And he just couldn't find one. 

 

Honestly, he had known since that morning in the kitchen with Derek. Or he had had a sinking suspicion at least. But now? Now there was just too much of a coincidence for it to be anything else. 

 

Lifting a shaking hand to his mouth Stiles stared at Lydia's wall, his eyes desperate. He knew what he had to do. Honestly he did. He just didn't  _want_ to. A naive part of him was still hoping that he was just putting too much into things, that he was grasping at straws. But his gut instincts told him that it was true. 

 

He knew who the Slaugh was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ARGH. i got so preoccupied watching buttloads of Sterek video's on youtube lol someone stop me before I kill myself with the feels :( i can't even talk about Hoechlin not returning as a regular. I might snap U_U
> 
>  
> 
> okay so the CDC part kind of just happened all on it's own U_U damn my brains way of doing things I hadn't planned. But in doing so that has opened up so many different possibilities, and I'm not sure if I should breech into it or just make it a quick 'in and out' case. I guess I'm wanting to ask for opinions. I plan for this to be a 3 part series, so it opens up some possibilities for the next 2 parts and I'm going to lay them out straight and ask you guys, because I don't want to open this up if you wouldn't be interested in that sort of development.
> 
> so here are some possibilities that could happen if i largely breeched into the CDC bit:
> 
> 1\. The town could be quarantined off.  
> 2\. An original character who works with the CDC could meet and befriend the pack, becoming a part of it in the end. I could even go as far as to make him not human. We could do this with he knew all along, or he doesn't 'present' until coming to beacon hills (cause we all know beacon hills is special)  
> 3\. there will most likely be some instance where someone in the pack is caught by some big bad person of the CDC and experimented on, which means a rescue mission is in order.  
> 4\. the possibility of the supernatural being exposed is high (though that doesn't mean it will happen)
> 
>  
> 
> understand i already have the main plots of the next 2 parts figured out, so in no way will that change, the CDC bit will just be added as a subplot.
> 
> OR it could be a stand alone. A new story entirely with that as it's main plot. which mean's a new big bad would have to come into being. 
> 
> jeez i tire myself out :( lol
> 
> Let me know what you guys think. If you don't think you'd care to read something like that, don't feel bad about telling me. I'm only interested in keeping you guys happy after all :)


	41. Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles confronts the Slaugh

Stiles stood in front of the red painted door of 21 Birch Street, the high moon in the sky casting a silver glow and reflecting on the small stain glass window in the center of the wood. A soft, lazy breeze gather's on the wind, making the various bamboo wind chimes hanging along the awning of the house dance and fill the night with mellow-toned chimes. In that moment everything seemed so...serene. So simple and untroubled. And so completely at odd's with the emotional struggle raging within Stiles. Stiles turned to look down the street behind him, finding it quiet and empty. He gripped the crowbar tighter in his hand before leaning forward and pressing his ear against the door. He listened for a long moment, his eyes shut, before slowly pulling back and then after a moment falling to his knees. He laid the crowbar down softly on the wooden porch and pulled his tension wrench and pick from his pocket, knowing his father would kill him if (when) he found out he'd taken it from his little bag of tools in his closet. He worked at the door knob a moment until the door clicked open quietly. Swallowing hard Stiles shoved the tools back in his pocket and grabbed his crowbar, drawing to a stand. He took a steadying breathe and slowly pushed the front door open, taking a hesitant step inside. The house was dark. Completely. Which it was nearly midnight, so it would make sense that the residents would be asleep. 

 

Stiles had snuck out of Lydia's house about two hours ago, driving away quietly. He had parked his Jeep about five miles away from Birch Street and had walked the rest of the way. Stiles knew that if the pack found his car they would still be able to track him, he just hoped that it would slow them down a bit. Because what he was about to do now? He didn't want anyone with him. He didn't want them to see the moment he confirmed his worst suspicion.

 

Shutting the door behind him without a noise Stiles looked up at the stairs directly in front of him. He bypassed them for now, heading left into what appeared to be a living room. He walked silently along the beige carpet. The room was tidy. Meticulous almost, as if it hadn't been lived in for a while. It made him frown, confused. Seeing a wall of photo's Stiles moved over to them, looking up and finding a family of two. A husband and wife in their late forties. In all of the photo's they were embracing. Smiling. Happy. In a few there was a large white dog that looked like some kind of shepherd. Stiles saw that the couple had had the animal since it were a puppy, as in the photo's it grew from a puppy to a large adult. Looking away from the photo's Stiles walked the span of the large living room and through an archway into a small kitchen. He stood there a moment before turning back the way he had come, and passing the stairs again to head in the opposite direction. It appeared to be a large laundry room with a bathroom. As he was heading to the stairs he suddenly heard a scratching noise, and froze, his heart racing in his chest. Turning around he searched the room, trying to find it's source. There was a door in the room, and the scratching was coming from the other side of it. Sucking in a deep breath Stiles moved forward and laid his hand on the door knob. Gripping the crowbar tight he pulled the door open and was almost run over by the large white dog in the photo's he had seen. Stiles released a slight laugh of relief, trying to calm his shaking body. The dog came to sniff at his feet, whining pitifully, and staring down at it Stiles realized that it was thin. Very thin. Like starving thin. "Hey buddy. You okay?" He reached out a hesitant hand and the dog immediately pushed it's head against his palm, whining again. That was when Stiles became aware of the smell.

 

Lifting his arm he shoved it against his nose, his face scrunching up in disgust. Squinting he turned to look back at the open door. He could see stairs leading down, so knew it was a basement. Moving forward he felt along the walls until his hand brushed against a light switch. He flipped it and a soft incandescent glow flickered in and out. Stiles peered down the stairs, seeing that the basement veered to the right directly after the stairs, so he couldn't see much of anything else. But the smell....the smell coming up was....the most horrible thing Stiles had ever experienced. Something inside of him clenched and fell to the floor, and his heart picked up in tempo again. Every instinct he had said to not go down there, but morbid curiosity had his feet moving forward. When he placed his foot on the first step the dog whined at his back, and Stiles turned to it. He held his hand out to the dog, trying to calm it, but the dog just whined against and backed away, sitting with it's tail tucked between it's legs. That moment Stiles really considered just shutting the basement door and not going down. Locking that horrific smell away again. But he knew that he couldn't. "Hey. It's okay. I'll be back. Just stay here alright?" He whispered reassuringly to the dog, who twitched it's ears forward and whined again, but otherwise didn't move. 

 

Turning back Stiles looked down the stairs again before slowly beginning his decent. Once he got towards the middle of the stairs the smell had increased in strength, and it was taking all Stiles had not to gag, his arm shoved hard against his nose. By the time his foot had reached the final step though, Stiles couldn't hold back anymore, and bent over, his eyes clenched tight as he gagged. It was hot in the basement, the houses conditioning obviously not reaching down there, and somehow that made the smell even worse, so strong that Stiles could almost taste it, and for a moment he almost vomited, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. Stiles stayed bent over a long moment, glaring at the concrete floor, not wanting to turn around and look at what he knew he would find. He was so opposed to the thought that he released a dry sob. But this is what he had come for. And while he hadn't expected anything like what he knew was behind him, he knew that it wouldn't be good regardless. Gritting his teeth to try and hold back from dry heaving Stiles finally straightened with a stiff back, and after gathering his courage turned around, heading further into the room and to the right, where the main part of the basement was. His eyes immediately fell to the center of the room, where a large lumpy tarp was. Flies were gathered around it, and Stiles gave a choked cry, his mind telling him to retreat, but his feet were still carrying him forward, and then his shaking hand was reaching out to the edge of the tap, and pulling it back.

 

Stiles couldn't hold it in that time, and swung away as his stomach emptied itself. Sweat was gathered on his brow, and cold shivers wrecked his body. When he was done vomiting he pressed the heel's of his hands into his eyes, trying to get the image of the two dead bodies from his mind. He had only seen them a few seconds, but the sight would be forever etched into his brain. There skin had been a disgust dark grey, appearing flaky and coming off in patches. Their bodies were bloated, their eyes bulging and clouded and their mouths twisted open, and their hair had been white. Heaving again Stiles rushed away from them, running back up the stairs two at a time and shutting the door behind him. The dog jumped up when he rushed out, pacing anxiously, whining. Stiles leaned against the closed door a moment, his eyes burning and sucking in deep inhales, trying to calm his beating heart. He wanted to slide down it and draw his knee's in on himself, wrapping his arms around them and hide his face. He wanted to rock himself and try to forget what he had just seen. But he couldn't. Not yet at least. Running a shaky hand through his hair he moved from the room, vaguely brushing his hand on top of the dog's head as he did so, and stood in front of the stairs. The dog trotted past him to move to the living room and jump up on the couch, staring back at him with dark eyes. Stiles half way wished that it had followed him. That it would go with him up the stairs, but he also didn't want anything to happen to it. Tightening his hand around the crowbar he gripped the railing with his other and headed up, his heart increasing with each step. It was just as dark upstairs as it had been down. When Stiles reached the top of the floors he found four doors, two at each side of him. He looked between the first two at his left and right, staring at them, as if he were waiting for something inside of him to click and whisper 'that one', but it never came, so licking dry lips Stiles moved silently to the right one and after leaning his ear against it carefully twisted and pushed the knob. It was a bathroom, and he released a breath he hadn't been aware he had been holding.  Crossing the narrow hall he curled his hand on the knob of the door directly opposite, and after listening as well pushed it open. This was a large bedroom. He froze instantly, his gut clenching and heart pounding. He half expected someone to rush at him, but after quickly looking he found that there was no one in. The bed was unmade, the blankets messy. Stiles looked up at the far wall and saw more photos of the same couple. The couple that had been in the basement. This had been their bedroom then. Feeling his stomach drop to his feet he turned and left the room hurriedly, heading further down the hall until he came to the two other doors. He was moving to the left one, reaching out his hand for the handle, when something came over him. A chill at the base of his neck. And then, that time, something did whisper in his mind, some buried instinct or force that knew - just  _knew_ \- that what he was looking for wasn't behind the door in front of him, but rather the one at his back. 

 

Stiles turned, staring at the door. It looked just like all the other's. So normal. Nothing out of the ordinary. But it was different somehow, Stiles knew that now, and he wasn't entirely sure how. It was almost as if the door was giving off some kind of atmosphere. One that felt like despair and pain. And anger. So much fucking anger. Stiles heart was raging in his chest now, and no matter how hard he tried to steady his breathing and calm himself he couldn't. Behind that door was a monster. A murderer. A thing of darkness and evil.  By the time Stiles laid his hand on the knob his entire body was shaking. He didn't even bother waiting at the door and listening. He figured it was pointless. He turned the knob and entered.

 

The room as dark, just as the other's. As the entire house. As far as room's went it was on the plain side. The walls bare, empty. As if it were a room that were not usually used, and Stiles knew that it hadn't been. Not until recently at least. There were some dressers along the wall beside him, one with a TV sitting on it. The TV was currently on, static playing and casting a soft pale glow upon the room. Stiles moved into the room, towards the twin bed against the opposite wall. His leg's stiffened as he went. Growing heavier with each step until Stiles was sweating with the weight to lift them and keep moving. When he was finally standing before the bed he just stood there, staring down at the sleeping form in front of him. Only a few seconds had passed before his lips twisted in agony and tears began to fall. He bent in on himself slightly, unable to stop his body from trembling as he cried, feeling so much fucking pain. He hadn't wanted it to be true. Had  _needed_ it not to be true, but the sight of Ryan sleeping deeply in front of him was all the proof he needed. Stiles wanted to scream then. As loud and long as he could until his throat was raw and bleeding. Even with finding his exchange family dead in the basement his mind had searched out another reason. Any other possible explanation. But finding Ryan here, sleeping, he knew there wasn't one. Ryan was the Slaugh. And he had been killing people for weeks, while pretending to be Stiles friend.

 

The betrayal that cut through him was so sharp and painful that it almost brought Stiles to his knee's. He closed his eyes, swaying a bit with a whimper, just as he felt a cold presence settling at his back. Stiles drew still immediately, his eyes flashing open and his heart ceasing to beat for a few seconds before thundering against his breast bone. He looked up at Ryan on the bed, before slowly turning, and letting out a whimper.

 

The Slaugh stood behind him, fully formed all but from it's calves down, where shadow's swirled. If it had been horrific to look at before it was even more so now. All protruding bones and dark, flayed skin. It's mouth gaped open, rows of long, sharp teeth flashing in the darkness as it let lose a shrill shriek, it's eyes flashing crimson. Stiles backed away with wide eyes, and the creature advanced, those razor like claws lifting towards Stiles. Stiles brain seemed to kick in then, and her jerked from the force of it, before swinging around and grabbing one of Ryan's arms, pressing the crowbar down flat against his skin. As he had expected, the boy's skin sizzled immediately, and he heard the Slaugh release a shriek of agony. Stiles twisted his gaze over his shoulder and watched the Slaugh jerk and twist in on itself, it's eyes blazing angrily at Stiles before vanishing in a cloud of smoke. Stiles stared at where it had been a moment, his eyes wide and his chest heaving. He looked down at Ryan then and stumbled away with a gasp. The boy's eyelids were flickering, his limbs jerking slightly. His arm was already healing, once burnt skin fading into smoothness again. Stiles stared at the sight as if hypnotized a moment, before suddenly Ryan was arching against the bed, sucking in a deep inhale. Stiles stumbled away from him until his back hit the wall opposite him. He immediately reached into his hoodie and pulled out the gun his dad kept in his closet. He knew that it wouldn't kill Ryan, that it would most likely hardly wound him, but he needed to feel like he at least stood a chance against him.  Flipping the switch on the safety he held it up, pointed at Ryan as the boy slowly sat up in bed, his eyes automatically moving through the room to land on him. Stiles couldn't help but flinch when he saw them glow blood red. 

 

"Are you going to shoot me, Stiles?" Ryan asked in a quiet voice, turning until his feet hit the floor.

 

"If I have to." Stiles gasped out, trying to control the tremor in his voice. He clenched his jaw hard, his hand starting to shake on the gun and he hated himself for it. Ryan stood up then, slowly, lazily, and Stiles cringed, growing rigid. "Stop! Don't fucking move!" He screamed out jerking the gun in the air to try and prove his point. "I swear to god I'll shoot."

 

"What would be the point? We both know it won't kill me."

 

"You're not fully formed yet. It could." Stiles bit out.

 

Ryan seemed to consider that a moment, before his eyes cut again to Stiles and he stepped forward. "I suppose you're right. But even so, I don't think you'll do it. I am your friend after all."

 

"You're a liar!" Stiles hissed. "You've been lying to me since we first met! And I swear to god if you don't stop I  _will_ shoot you!!!"

 

"See that's not true. Not entirely." Ryan replied as he continued to move forward slowly, his eyes brightly red against the dark. "I wasn't always lying to you. Not in the beginning anyway. When the murder's started I had no idea I was the one killing everyone. I mean, I had a suspicion. There were some bad dreams and some things that I just couldn't explain, but I never thought it would add up to this."

 

"So you're saying you were killing people and didn't even know about it?!" Stiles laughed humorlessly, sliding against the wall to put more distance between them. "How fucking convenient."

 

"It's true." Ryan paused then, tilting his head and closing his eyes a moment. "There's just something about this place that sort of...jump started what I am. I have no idea what, but there's obviously something special about Beacon Hills."

 

"Yeah we've heard that all before." Stiles said through clenched teeth. "It doesn't make you innocent. Even after you found out you kept killing. You were infecting other's and making  _them_ kill people too."

 

" **I COULDN'T STOP!!"**

 

The scream contorts Ryan's face, his features changing to resemble those of the Slaugh for a moment, and Stiles flinched hard, drawing in on himself and releasing a whimper.

 

"I  _had_ to keep feeding! Don't you get it?!" Ryan rushes forward then, and Stiles cries out, running to the other side of the room as the boy advances on him, his eyes blazing. "There's  _nothing_  here!" He screams, beating on his chest. "I'm fucking empty!! Even after I feed it only last's so long and then I have to do it again!"

 

"Stop!" Stiles screams, gripping both hands on the gun now. "RYAN STOP!" The boy sneer's, his face contorting into something evil as he continues towards Stiles, and sucking in a breath Stiles squeezes his finger on the trigger.

 

The thunderous sound of the gun going off momentarily deafens him. Ryan jerk's back as the bullet enter's his shoulder, stumbling backwards, and Stiles thinks he's going to fall a moment but he steady's his feet then and just stand's there, staring down at his shoulder as it seeps out thin black blood. Stiles' eyes widen at the sight of it, and his jaw goes slack. And then the boy is laughing suddenly, his red eyes crazed and his mouth ajar. The sight sends a shiver of unease down Stiles spine and he quickly cock's the gun again, aiming. 

 

"You actually did it! You shot me!" Ryan looks up at him, his body trembling with after shakes from his laughter. "Then again I guess it's not that surprising. You are strong. So fucking strong. Stronger than anyone I've ever met." Ryan edges towards him, his eyes wide in glee. "Did you know that when I fed from you that - that  _force_ inside of you held me over longer than anyone else ever has?" Ryan rolled his eyes with a groan. "It was so fucking addicting, Stiles. Even now I'm so hungry for it." Ryan grinned at him, a sharp toothed, predator like grin. And then he was shooting forward.

 

Stiles yells and releases another round into his body, but it only halts him for a brief second and then he's on Stiles. 

 

Stiles felt the air leave his lungs as he was slammed hard against the walls, and suddenly incredibly sharp claws were digging into his arms and holding him still against the wall. The pressure of Ryan's grip makes the gun in his hand drop, and Stiles cries out dejectedly as Ryan's face come's down close to his own. Stiles closes his eyes with a grimace, turning his face away as Ryan sucks in a deep inhale, releasing a groan.

 

"God you smell so good. I've never smelled anyone like you before." Ryan's eyes flash with hatred then, and his claws dig in deep into Stiles arms. Stiles cries out in pain, feeling blood beginning to rush downward. "What is it? _What are you?_!"

 

"Nothing!" Stiles all but screams. "I'm fucking nothing!"

 

"Oh, I don't believe that. You're hiding it. I want to know.  _I need to know."_  

 

Stiles hisses as Ryan jerks one of his arms up and with the flat of his tongue catches a trail of Stiles blood, licking all the way up his arm. Stiles chokes in disgust, looking away from the sight. 

 

"I can taste it in you." Ryan mummers softly, as if amazed. "It's so faint, but it's there.  _Power."_

 

Power. The word is a mockery to Stiles suddenly, because at that moment, he has never felt so weak. His body feels deadened. Numb over the fact that someone he had considered a friend, someone he had let kiss him, touch him, had been betraying him. It was like a thousand fucking figurative knives in his back. And it hurt. "Please, stop." Stiles beg's. "Just stop. We can fix this. We may be able to cure you."

 

Ryan arches a brow down at him before bursting out into laughter once again. "Cure me?! Why the hell would I want you to cure me? I've never been stronger in my entire life!  _Finally_ the fucking tables have turned."

 

"You don't have to do this. There has to be another way." Stiles tries again, because as horrific as this is, he still can't fucking stop himself from thinking he can fix it somehow. That he can fix Ryan. God he is so fucked up. Why was he always trying to fix people? To save and protect them? It was like if he wasn't doing it then he felt like nothing. Just some walking shell with no real existence. It was pathetic and weak, and Stiles hated himself for it. And looking at Ryan now, at the utter cruelty in his eyes (how the hell had he never been able to see that?) he knew that Ryan wasn't interested in any other way.  _This_ was what he was. This was what he wanted. 

 

"Need to taste you again...." Ryan's eyes are glazed over, hazy, like he's not really there. "Never tasted anything so strong, need to feed off of you but can't. Not in this body. Not yet."

 

Because he wasn't fully formed yet? So did that mean once he had injected enough energy or souls or what the fuck every he was feeding off of, he would be able to transform without having to do the out of body thing? Stiles shivered at the thought of Ryan lose in Beacon Hills fully formed, no longer having to wait until his body was sleeping to hurt other's. He would be free to feed any time he wanted. The death toll would just rack up.

 

"I'll keep you here." Ryan drew out in a awe filled voice, as if he were amazed with his own simple train of thought. "Keep you locked up in the basement with the other's."

 

The thought of being stuck in the basement with the two dead bodies made him choke in horror. "No, please don't make me go down there again."

 

But Ryan's hand's were already tightening on him, dragging him through the room and down the hallway to the steps. Stiles struggled against him, screaming as loud as he could to try and alert any of the neighbors. Ryan hissed and slammed a hand over his mouth, his claws digging in painfully deep in Stiles waist. "Don't make me kill you, Stiles.  _Please_." And he was  _actually_ begging, whining into Stiles ear, as if the thought of him dying really did cause him pain. For a fleeting second Stiles felt hope fill him. The Ryan he knew was still in there somewhere, just buried deep down. "Need you alive to feed. Need to taste you." Stiles hope was snuffed out almost as quickly as it had been lit. He shut his eyes with a sob as Ryan wrestled him down the stairs. Once they reached the laundry room, though, Stiles screamed into Ryan's hand, his eyes bulging as he fought against Ryan with more intensity. He did  _not_ want to go back to that basement. He couldn't. It was too fucking much. Ryan was puling open the door, then, and Stiles was so worked up that he was near the point of passing out from anxiety, and then suddenly he heard a loud, snarling growl and the next thing he knew Ryan was jerking away from him with a cry. 

 

Stiles spun on his heels, dizzy a moment, as he tried to take in what was happening. He sucked in a sharp gasp when he saw Ryan lying on the floor, the white dog on top of him,  _ripping_ into him. He stood there a few seconds, too shocked to process anything, and then his survival instincts kicked in, because the next moment he was wrenching the front door open and fucking running as fast as humanly possible down the street. Only, he still had Derek's werewolf powers, so what was 'humanly' possibly was actually more like a fucking blur. He ran and ran and ran, never allowing himself to slow down, not even when his body screamed in exertion. Not even when the tear's filling his eyes were so thick that he could hardly see straight. When he had started running he had taken off without any real indication of direction, and now he finally began to take in where he was. He recognized the familiar street. He was running in the same direction he had came. Towards his jeep. He silently thanked whatever instinct in him that had set that in motion as his feet hit hard on the pavement. 

 

He must have run an hour straight before his body said  _no_ , and then he was going down hard. Stiles cried out loudly at the impact of his face against the concrete. He scrambled to his hands and knee's immediately, looking behind him with wide eyes, searching the empty back roads. When he saw no one he struggled to his feet again, crying out in pain as his entire body protested. Even though all he wanted to do was lay down and never move again he forced himself to walk at a fast pace, which was pretty hard considering his leg's felt like wet noodles and his walking resembled a man ten shot's of vodka in trying to walk a straight line. 

 

Everything felt fuzzy. All his senses dulled, and Stiles briefly wondered if it was because his body was exhausted, or his mind was mortally wounded. In the end it didn't matter, because suddenly he heard squealing tires and someone shouting his name. Stiles whined immediately, his mind's eye seeing Ryan, and tried to run again. He went down almost immediately. So he tried to crawl. He had only gotten maybe ten feet when suddenly strong arms were coming around him, pulling him up. Stiles cried and and fought with what little strength he had left, a final burst of energy that was all flailing limbs and screams.

 

"Stiles! Calm down. Please calm down come on it's me."

 

Stiles gasped as he was twisted around, and suddenly large, worried familiar hazel green eyes were searching his own, a gentle hand coming up to touch his cheek, his chin, his neck. A thumb stroking over his jaw. Stiles let out a sob and his head fell onto Derek's shoulder, and the man immediately pulled him close, wrapping those protective arms around his shaking frame. Stiles vaguely heard Scott and the rest of the pack talking, their voice high with concern, but he was just too damned tired to pay them any attention, and feeling so safe in Derek's arms, allowed his eyes to shut. He was asleep almost instantly.

 

 

***********************************************************

 

 

 

"He's waking up." 

 

Stiles distantly heard Scott say as he swam upwards through the sea of unconsciousness, sluggish and weak. When he could finally get his eyes to open he found six very concerned faces looking down at him. Groaning he tried to sit up, and his body screamed in protest. Derek was at his side instantly, reaching out and laying a hand on his wrist, and Stiles sighed weakly when he felt his pain being pulled from his body. He opened his eyes again, his gaze going over every worried, expectant face, and wanted to curl in on himself and sleep forever. He knew he couldn't though. He had to tell them.

 

"Stiles what happened?" Derek bit out gruffly beside him. "Who...who the fuck did this to you?" The look on the werewolve's face said all he needed was a name and address and he'd be all over that. 

 

Stiles smiled a bit weakly, and without thinking about it reached up and smoothed his hand over the wolf's scowl. His touch shocked Derek, and the man jumped slightly, his eyes shooting wide. "You would so have wrinkles if you weren't a werewolf. Like...a big frown line right in the middle of your forehead." Okay. So maybe he was a little loopy from being exhausted, and the hand magic Derek was doing seemed to be making it worse somehow. Frowning he pushed Derek's hand away weakly and attempted to sit up again, this time the wolf rushing to help until Stiles was finally propped up against the arm of the couch.

 

Scott sat down in the small opening immediately, lifting Stiles feet and placing them in his lap. "Stiles what happened?"

 

Stiles looked at his best friend a moment before turning away, his face a mess of emotions. "I know who the Slaugh is." He whispered.

 

Derek was surging upward immediately, his shoulders so tensely squared and his chest heaving. " _Tell me you didn't go after them by yourself."_

 

"I could, but obviously it would be a lie." Stiles offered weakly.

 

Derek was not the only one that swore harshly. And even Scott stood back up, pacing right along with the older wolf. 

 

"Why the hell didn't you tell us!" Lydia was crouched down beside the couch, his wide green eyes searching Stiles, angry. 

 

"Did you honestly think you'd be able to stop it on your own?" Kira looked almost as mad as Lydia, her usual child like innocent features twisted.

 

"He didn't  _think_ , that's his problem." Liam bit out then and really Stiles had had just about enough.

 

They were mad. So the hell what. He felt to betrayed to give a fuck. "I didn't  _tell_ any of you because it was  _Ryan!_ " He hissed out, drawing straighter on the couch and shooting glares at them all, his body shaking with his anger. "I didn't  _tell_ any of you because maybe I was too fucking upset about someone I thought was my friend being this monster! I didn't  _tell_ any of you because I wasn't even sure and I had to see for myself! Or maybe because I didn't want to hear any of you say you fucking told me so!! Or maybe because I thought by some freaking slim chance I would be able to get through to him, because surly this monster that's been killing and infecting people couldn't be Ryan. It had to be possessing him somehow. Or just something -  _anything_ \- that would prove that the person I had been making out with and nearly slept with  _wasn't_ the one that had infected and nearly killed me!" He broke off, sucking in a deep breath of air only to continue again. "But you know what? Fine! You told me it was him and I didn't believe any of you! I was too fucking stupid and naive and thought that someone actually liked me for me and honestly just wanted to get to know me. But I guess I was wrong!" He finally slumped back down against the couch, his chest rising and falling with deep inhales, his face red.

 

Everyone else was still, hesitant, their eyes a mix of emotions ranging from worry, to pity, to anger. It was a mess of a combination and Stiles had to look away from it before he fell apart.

 

It was finally Malia that moved forward, sitting on the edge of the couch beside him. She took his hand, squeezing it in her's. "Stiles...we wouldn't have done that. You know that, right?"

 

"Why the hell not." Stiles said softly, turning to look at her. "You were right."

 

"Yeah, but we're not cruel. Not to that extent. You should have come to us." Malia drew out more forcefully. "You could have gotten more hurt than you already are."

 

Stiles absently looked down to his arms, which had apparently been cleaned and bandaged while he had been passed out. "I just...I didn't want it to be him."

 

"I know. But it is. And now we have to figure out what we're going to do about him." Malia squeezed his hand lightly, offering a small smile.

 

"How did you even figure it out?" Scott asked from above him. 

 

Stiles gave a slight shrug, wrapping his arms around his middle, wincing when his wounds flared in agony. "Something from this morning made me start questioning it. Me and Derek were talking about the Slaugh," He cast a hesitant glance to the wolf and saw that he was standing off to the side, his back to them, and his body rigid. "And I knew what he was thinking. That it was Ryan." Stiles gave a bitter laugh at that. "But at the time I thought to myself that it couldn't be him because he was there both times the Slaugh showed up - and then I thought 'unless he can leave his body'. And then things just started to click. The way whenever the Slaugh was here he would always be passed out, how it would take a bit to wake him up, almost as if his body were in some kind of paralysis state. So when I left I got Parrish to text me his address because I thought I'd do some snooping, see if I found anything at his house that would give him away." Stiles gave a feeble laugh. "I won't lie though, at the time I still didn't want to believe it was him, so it was really half assed. But then later at Lydia's I was going through the case files, and I saw that the first victim that was killed lived on the same road as Ryan. It was just weird enough for me to start some more digging. To find out the girl was a part of a local organization that help's foreigner's and exchange students settle into new communities. It was as easy as calling Danny and getting him to hack into their system to get a members list of the past two months. Ryan's name was on it." He stared down at his lap, his voice breaking. "At that point I pretty much knew. Or at least I had a pretty good feeling. So I went to see. And...well...yeah." He held up his arms to prove his point before looking up at everyone with a frown. "But I still don't know  _why_ he killed her. Or any of the other one's for that matter. But then again maybe there doesn't have to be a why. Maybe he's just a cold blooded monster."

 

His words settled over them a long moment, sinking in.

 

"How did you escape?" Lydia asked softly.

 

Stiles cringed at the memory. "He was going to lock me in the basement. To keep me there to feed on. He had already killed his exchange family and had their bodies down there. It was...." He clenched his eyes shut, sucking in a deep breathe. "Anyway there had been a dog locked down there too. When he was trying to push me down into the basement the dog kind of just attacked him and I managed to get away." Stiles began to fiddle with a lose string on the blanket covering him. "He's almost fully formed, guys. I think after one more feeding he will be done. And from what he said, I think once he is, he won't need to wait to fall asleep to change anymore. He'll be able to physically transform now whenever he wants."

 

Scott hissed, rubbing at his temples. "This is so fucking bad."

 

Stiles nodded in agreement, glancing yet again over to Derek, who had yet to move. "We've got to figure something out. He's going to be hurting so many more people now that he has full reign."

 

"We will. Deaton's been working on a weapon that could possibly kill him." Scott confirmed. "Hopefully it will be finished tomorrow or by the latest the next day."

 

Stiles flinched, not wanting to think about how many people could die in two day's.

 

"Hey. We're going to stop him, okay?"

 

Stiles looked up at Scott's puppy dog trusting eyes and nodded with a sigh. "I know. I just...I'm exhausted. I'm about to pass out right now."

 

Scott nodded in understanding and moved to help Stiles stand from the couch, wrapping an arm around his waist and walking him down the hall. Lydia was close on his heels and they entered the guest room together. Stiles smiled weakly to Scott before pulling him in for a tight hug. Scott grinned at him and ruffled his hair before heading out, shutting the door quietly behind him. With a weary sigh Stiles collapsed onto the bed, and Lydia was there almost instantly, curling around him and pressing her face against his back. 

 

"You're a dumb ass, you know that?"

 

Stiles laughed weakly. "I know, but you love me anyway." He felt Lydia shake slightly with laughter and smiled.

 

"And you're also too bony. Eat some food, Stiles."

 

"Geez. Sorry I'm not as cuddle worthy as Parrish." Stiles teased.

 

"Jordan is a master cuddler." She sighed. "I really wish he'd stop acting like an old maid though. I know we said we'd wait till I graduated but I really want to sleep with him. The fun kind."

 

Stiles groaned and rolled his eyes. "Jesus. Can we please not talking about you having sex with someone right now? I'm sure Parrish would find the whole us cuddling together pretty questionable as it is."

 

"He wouldn't mind. Actually he'd most likely cuddle with us. He's just one of those guys."

 

"The ones that like kinky threesomes?" Stiles offered with an arched brow.

 

Lydia snorted and hit him softly on the back before burrowing herself deeper against him. They were both quiet a long moment before she spoke again, her voice heavy with sleep. "Don't do anything stupid like that again, okay? We were all really worried about you."

 

Stiles blinked against the darkness of the room before nodding. "Yeah. I'm sorry." But Lydia didn't say anything else, and he figured she was most likely already asleep. Stiles laid there a long while, unable to help himself as his gaze darted through the shadows, as if he were waiting for Ryan to step out from them at any moment. Feeling so fucking small he drew his leg's close to his chest and rubbed at his chest. It hurt. A lot. More than it had ever hurt before, actually. Stiles knew that he was getting a mix of Derek's emotions on top of his own, and it was making him a little breathless. Making him ache. And not in a good way. He must have laid there at least two hours before he couldn't stand it anymore. Rising carefully from the bed he glanced down at Lydia to make sure she was still asleep before moving silently from the room. Out in the hallway he heard the soft lull of a TV and headed to the living room to find Malia sitting on the couch awake. She turned and smiled softly at him, rubbing her hand through Liam's hair, who was asleep with his head on her lap.

 

"It's my shift." She said softly.

 

Stiles nodded at her and offered a small smile before turning and walking to where the stairs started. He stared up at them a long moment, wondering if he should really head up. He knew Derek was awake. His chest wouldn't be hurting so much if the wolf weren't up there angsting over something. Finally deciding Stiles licked his lips and started up. When his bare feet hit the cold hardwood he looked around the dark room, finding Derek sitting up on his bed. It was a bit creepy, him just sitting there in the darkness, and for a moment Stiles heart raced in slight fear. Derek stood then, seemingly understanding, and took a few steps towards him, but then stopped.

 

Stiles felt slightly awkward, and stood there rubbing at his chest, his mouth slightly ajar as he struggled to think of something to say. "Uh - I just ....you've kind of been filling me with some bad emotion the past few hours and I was just...i guess wondering if...everything's alright?" God why did he sound so stupid.

 

Stiles could make out what looked like Derek's shoulders rising and falling as if he had sucked in a deep breathe. "Go to sleep, Stiles." The wolf drew out harshly.

 

Stiles swallowed, his throat dry. "Um, well see I'd love to but I kind of can't. The whole link thing, you know? So like - if you can, I don't know just  _stop_ what you're doing somehow?" As he spoke he moved further into the loft, and when he was only a few feet away from Derek he heard the wolf growl out and froze instantly, his eyes shooting wide. "Uh...Derek?"

 

" _I can't just fucking_   **stop**." Derek hissed out suddenly. "My goddamn wolf's going literally insane to fucking touch you and make sure you're okay and I'm already having a hard time controlling myself so  _go to fucking sleep, Stiles!"_

 

Stiles' eyes widened even more at his words, and he felt his face shoot red before releasing a sort of half squeak, which he quickly tried to cover by clearing his throat. He just stood there awkwardly, staring at Derek as if he were waiting for him to say 'haha just kidding' at some point, but when he didn't Stiles felt lust shoot straight to his dick. He closed his eyes at the rush, nearly moaning. Holy shit Derek was going crazy to touch him. The thought left him breathless and achy (and this time in a good way). 

 

Derek growled again. " _Stop it._ " He hissed.

 

Stiles realized that Derek was feeling his lust and the thought made him even more hot. Standing there, he had about ten seconds to think over what he wanted. Ten seconds to consider all pros and cons. Ten seconds to tell himself why this would be such an incredibly horrible idea. He made the decision in three seconds. "I want you to touch me." 

 

Derek made a sound almost as if he were hurt, and this time the slam of lust Stiles felt was from Derek. "You don't fucking mean that." Derek choked out.

 

"I'm pretty sure you know I did." Stiles offered, trying to sound casual but his voice was just too thick. He gave in with a sigh, looking up at the man honestly. "Derek, I kind of fucking  _need_ you to touch me right now, okay? I'm five seconds away from a complete mess and I need to just - to  _feel_ something. This is me giving you permission, you get that? I'm not drunk. I know what I'm doing, and if I regret it in the morning then it's my own fucking fault. Just.... _just please_." Before he could even finish saying the last two words Derek was on him. Stiles gasped as he felt the man's arms go around him and suddenly his feet were off the floor and he was weightless. He gripped Derek's shoulders to steady himself and the next second his back was hitting Derek's mattress. Stiles tried to scoot himself up, but Derek was doing that too, lifting him with one arm around his waist and positioning him until his head was at the top of the bed and then Derek was covering him. Stiles' eyes rolled back in his head with a moan as he felt the man pressed intimately against him. Suddenly Derek's mouth and hands were everywhere. Trailing kissing over his face and down his jaw and neck, while his hands ran up his shirt and molded over his body. Stiles gasped and arched his back, his body on fire. Derek was growling low in his throat, rubbing his bearded cheek against Stiles and it took everything Stiles had not to cum in his pants like a damned teenager. Oops. He was a teenager. Well it still wouldn't be good. 

 

Derek pulled away suddenly and Stiles whimpered, automatically reaching up to try and regain contact. 

 

"Need to feel your skin." Derek breathed out harshly, his eyes glowing blue in the dark. He pulled his shirt over his head in one quick motion as he continued to all but glare down at Stiles clothing. "Clothes. Off."

 

And dear god caveman talk shouldn't have been so fucking hot but it was. More than willing to oblige Stiles sat up and pulled his shirt off as well, falling back against the mattress and looking up at Derek, or rather his wall of muscle that was his chest. His mouth watered at the sight of him, his eyes rolling over every edge and curve. It was his damned hipbones that made his half hard dick shoot ramrod stiff though. God damn he loved his hipbones. It was like a perfect V. Unable to stop himself Stiles lifted a hand and traced one, jerking his gaze up to Derek's face as the wolf let lose a growl. Apparently it was a good growl though, because his eyes were closed in bliss and after glancing back down Stiles saw that his pants were noticeably more bulged. Like...a  _lot_ noticeably. And as Stiles laid there staring, said bulge just kept growing until Stiles heard himself whimper in half weariness and half want. In the end morbid fascination won and he lowered his hand until his palm was pressed against Derek's straining length. Derek sucked in a ragged breath and his hips rolled forward against Stiles hand.

 

"Pants." Was all the werewolf said before suddenly he was jerking away and deft fingers had Stiles jeans unbutton and zipped, and then was jerking them off his hips.

 

Stiles yelped in surprise, his hand automatically lowering to cover himself as Derek tossed his jeans aside. Derek's eyes raked over him, from head to toe, his gaze lingering long in certain places, so long that Stiles found himself squirming on the bed, a hot flush spreading over his chest. 

 

"Beautiful." Derek grunted before his hands were going to his own pants and then pushing them down, kicking them aside.

 

Stiles' eyes bulged immediately  when Derek's dick sprang free. He sucked in a sharp breathe, his mouth going dry because holy hell the guy was bigger than he had even though. And he was  _uncut_. Stiles had always sort of obsessed with uncircumcised penises and had spent many a night on his lap top 'studying'. And the fact that Derek was? Jesus Christ was the werewolf freaking  _perfect_?

 

"Move your hands."

 

Stiles blinked, trying to clear his head before looking up at Derek. "What?" He asked a little breathlessly.

 

"Move. Your. Hands." Derek bit out each word, his eyes fierce.

 

Stiles swallowed hard and licked his lips. He felt stupidly shy. Embarrassed. But with how hard Derek's stare was he felt helpless to do anything but. Trying to calm his racing heart he slowly pulled away his shaking hands. Derek growled immediately, his eyes on Stiles hard cock and tight balls. Stiles resisted the urge to cover his face and just laid there, but eventually he couldn't take the separation any longer and called out Derek's name in a choked voice.

 

Derek was on him instantly, and they were both groaning at how good their skin felt against one another, Stiles automatically pumping his hips up and grinding against Derek's dick, and the man groaned, his head falling down to Stiles neck. Stiles lifted his hands, one fisting in Derek's hair and the other trailing over his back. He spread his legs wider and lifted up one knee so Derek would press more intimately against him and whimpered, arching against him again. 

 

"Need to touch you." Derek said yet again, and Stiles just nodded breathlessly as the older man's hands were on his body again. He felt his calloused palms brush over his nipples and sucked in a sharp inhale, unsuspecting the jolt of pleasure that went straight to his dick. Derek seemed to pick up on this because he returned to one, brushing his thumb over it again and again until Stiles was crying out and moving restlessly beneath him, and then when he pinched it between his thumb and forefinger Stiles hissed, his back arching high. 

 

"Derek." He dug his blunt nails into Derek's shoulder, desperately needing more. "Fuck I'm going to die if you don't touch me." He breathed.

 

Derek bit down on his neck hard and Stiles' eyes rolled back in his head yet again while he rutted against Derek a bit mindlessly. "Tell me what you want." Derek grunted against his neck.

 

"I need -  _ah fuck_. Want you to touch - touch my dick." Stiles could feel Derek's vibrating growl against his own chest, and loved it. He felt Derek's hand snaked sideways from where he had been gripping his waist and then his large hand was wrapping tight around him. Stiles let lose a choked groan, his eyes shutting as he pumped into Derek's fist. 

 

Derek sat up a little bit then, leaning back on his hunches, and Stiles opened his eyes to look up at him like that. God he was so fucking beautiful. His chest shinning with sweat, his powerful thighs holing him up and that huge cock standing up, the head already dripping pre cum. Stiles reached for it immediately, watching as Derek moaned and his head fell back slightly as he rubbed his fingertips against the head, smearing the wetness in. 

 

"Oh god  _yes_." Derek breathed, the muscles low in his stomach quivering. Stiles stared at the sight, enthralled, before wrapping his hand around Derek, which only ended up covering barely half of his dick. He realized with a sense of bewildered shock that Derek had to have at least a good 10 or 11 inch cock. And honestly, he may have been a little scared. Like, he'd run from that scared. But it was such a  _nice_ fucking dick. 

 

"Can't go all the way." Stiles said weakly as Derek began to pump him again. "Not yet."

 

Derek growled at that but after a moment gave a stiff nod, and Stiles returned his attention to Derek's dick. He began to tentatively move his hand, a little unsure of himself. Derek grabbed his hand all of a sudden, and Stiles looked up at him with wide eyes as he brought his palm close to his face. Before he could question what he was doing the wolf was sliding his tongue all over Stiles palm, causing spikes of pleasure to shoot straight to his dick. Stiles mouth hung slack as he watched Derek, the wolf's eyes locked heatedly on Stiles. When he was done Derek lowered his hand and to wrap back around his dick, using the saliva as lubrication. Stiles shut his eyes and groaned in lust, because it had been the hottest damn thing he had ever seen in his entire life. Derek's hand was on his dick again, and from it's wetness he figured the wolf must have given his own palm a tongue bath and cursed himself for having his eyes shut and missing it. 

 

Laying back against the mattress Stiles worked his hand again, he and Derek finding a matching rhythm until they were both breathing harshly, their hips pumping against each other's hands. The sight of Derek straining over him, his muscles tensed and coiled, was just too much, and Stiles released a weak cry as he felt pleasure shoot up from his balls and through his dick in heavy spurts. He arched his back, his eyes clenching tight as he felt hot cum land on his chest and stomach. Pulling open hazy eyes he found Derek watching him, his eyes flashing bright. The werewolf brought the hand he had been using to jack Stiles off up to his lips then, and Stiles sucked in a gasp when he saw him lick a line of cum off of his palm, and some fucking how, just like that, Stiles came again. His cry was louder this time, his free hand gripping in the bed sheet's as his body twisted in pleasure. In his hand he felt Derek's cock twitch a few times, and heard the man's breath hitch, before Stiles felt him begin to come as well. He jerked his eyes open and found Derek's entire body rigid and tense, his face the only part of him showing any type of emotion or sensation as he gave a breathy moan, his eyelids low. For a moment he crouched there, and then a slight tremble moved over his body and Derek groaned again, his body going slack as he fell sideways against the bed, lying beside Stiles. Stiles blinked at him slowly, already feeling himself being pulled under. Derek pulled open heavy lids as well and they stared at each other a moment, not saying a word because their eyes said it all. And then Derek was wrapping his arm around Stiles and turning him until he was on his side. Stiles sighed softly and reached down to pull the cover upwards over them, scooting deeper into Derek's chest. He was vaguely aware that he had cum - lots of cum - on him, but in that moment he didn't give a shit. Laying a hand on Derek's arm he closed his eyes, smiling softly when he felt Derek breath against his neck before placing a kiss at his hairline. And then they were both asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh jeez this chapter was so intense. I feel so bad for Stiles for having to experience that :(
> 
> but other than that...dear god...that last scene tho lol WHOOO! let me fan myself :O


	42. The Morning After

 

Stiles woke up surrounded by warmth and feeling safer than he ever had in his entire life. For a moment he didn't open his eyes, not wanting to break whatever spell he was under. The one where at that moment nothing else mattered. Where he knew he was lying in Derek's arms, and he was so completely okay with it. Because it felt  _right_. More right than anything previous. After a few minutes though, reality became more and more persistent, and Stiles knew that he had to call his dad and let him know about the bodies at Ryan's house. He knew that once he did that, his dad was going to practically flip on him, but there was nothing else he could do. Besides, he had left his dad's gun in Ryan's bedroom. His dad had to go and get it before it was found. Licking his lips and releasing a bit of a sight Stiles carefully pulled himself from Derek's arms, sitting up on the bed, the covers falling to his waist. He glanced behind him and stilled when he saw that Derek was awake, staring up at him. He swallowed past a suddenly dry throat, feeling awkward. "Hi."

 

Derek rolled until he was on his back, his hand snaking out to touch Stiles hip, as if he needed the contact, and honestly Stiles needed it too. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

 

Stiles glanced briefly down before shrugging slightly. "Okay. Still a little sore but it's nothing too bad." He licked his lips, looking at Derek again. "I've got to call my dad. Tell him what happened."

 

Derek nodded in understanding, his thumb lifting to brush soft circles on Stiles hipbone, sending tiny whispers of pleasure gathering low in his belly and between his legs. 

 

Stiles' lips parted in a soft inhale and he tried to control the urge to crawl back under the covers. "What about you? You look like you didn't get much sleep last night." And it was true. The wolf looked pretty damned worse for wear.

 

Derek shrugged. "I wanted to stay awake and keep watch. I can sleep later."

 

Stiles frowned down at him, both hating and loving that he had stayed awake all night just to make sure he was okay. "Why don't you try to get some sleep. I'm going to take a shower and then I'll hang around the loft for a few hours before I call my dad."

 

Derek looked like he was going to refuse, but Stiles scowled at him and the wolf eventually turned away, rolling his eyes, the corners of his mouth uplifted slightly. "Fine."

 

"There you go, Big Guy. See, it's nice sometimes just to take the orders and not dish them out." 

 

Derek snorted at him before suddenly pushing him hard from the bed, and Stiles hissed as he nearly face planted on the floor. He swung back up with a glare, remembering his junk was on display and covered himself with his hands.

 

"Not funny!"

 

Derek seemed to think it was funny though, or at least he did, but his grin soon fell as his eyes drifted over Stiles nude body and his nostril's flared. Feeling blood once again rush to his dick Stiles hurriedly turned and bent to retrieve the first pair of jeans he got his eye on. As he did so, though, he heard Derek release a low growl and straightened immediately, letting out a shaky 'oh my god' and pulling the pants on with a speed that was normally unknown to one as clumsy as him. Not even bothering to zip and button the pants he rushed down the stairs before the wolf could jump his ass. Literally. He had just made it to the last stair as was heading for the bathroom when Scott and Lydia passed the hallway, heading for the kitchen. They stopped when they saw him, both of their eyes shooting wide. Stiles froze, realizing how he must look. He knew he had on Derek's jeans, and the fact that he had on no shirt and his hair was a mess and there may or may not be - okay yup. That was definitely dry cum on his chest and stomach. As if on cue Scott inhaled slightly before groaning loudly, digging the heel's of his palms into his eyes as if in the hopes of scrubbing the image of him standing there from his mind.

 

"Goddammit, Stiles!  _Why?!"_

 

Lydia snorted beside him, looking far too amused. As if the world didn't hate him enough, Kira was suddenly poking her head around the kitchen corner, her eyes growing wide as she took him in. "Oh." Was all she said before suddenly she was grinning and holding her fist up as if in victory, something that reminded Stiles far to much of himself. Maybe he was rubbing off on her. Speaking of rubbing off on people though..

 

"Uh...I'm just going to - you know, go shower."

 

" _PLEASE!_ " Scott all but begged, still not looking at him.

 

Stiles bobbed his head. "Uh Lydia, think you could bring me some clothes from my duffle?"

 

Lydia nodded, now laughing out loud, and Stiles glared at all three of them before slamming the bathroom door behind him. He leaned against the counter a moment, staring down at the sink and sighing. Pushing away he glanced up in the mirror at his reflection and let out a choked sound when he saw the various very obvious hickey's running up and down his neck. "Son of a....Goddamn wolves and their markings!" He bit out, twisting away to turn on the water and pushing Derek's jeans off. He stepped under the hot spray and let lose a sigh, remembering then about his bandages and swearing again, hurriedly pulling them off. He cringed when he saw the angry claw marks circling both his arms. They were actually pretty deep, and he wondered if maybe he should get Melissa or Deaton to look at them just in case he needed stitches. There were some wounds on his side too, but they were nowhere near as bad and hadn't really needed to be patched. Grabbing the bar of soap from the porcelain dish Stiles lathered it in his hands and began to scrub his body, careful of his wounds. He scrubbed longer than he most likely needed, suddenly feeling the urge to wipe all traces of Ryan from his body, his mind going to a dark place of betrayal and hurt. He gritted his teeth and forced himself not to cry, because he didn't want to cry any more over him. Didn't want to feel sorry for himself or remember how helpless he had felt in the room with Ryan. 

 

Sighing deep Stiles stood under the hot spray and rested his head on the shower wall, just letting the water rush over him, hoping that it would somehow rinse away more than the soap. 

 

He only shut the water off after it had run cold, and pushing open the curtain saw that once again someone had snuck in and put clothes out for him without him even noticing. He was really going to have to work on his powers of observation. Or hearing. Or whatever. Grabbing the folded towel he made quick work of drying himself, running it a few times through his hair before tossing it over the shower curtain and then starting to put on his clothes. When he held up the henley Derek had let him borrow last time his gaze turned dry. "Haha Lydia! Really funny!" He screamed at the door, knowing she couldn't be too far away. Cursing under his breath he just pulled the shirt on and then began the difficult process of putting on a pair of the dark wash skinny jeans Lydia had got him. How the hell did these things not drive people crazy? Why was his foot having so much damned trouble pushing past the bottom?! By the time the jeans were finally up he was sweating a bit and pretty annoyed, and just wanted to get the hell out of the hot, foggy room. Pulling open the door he sighed as fresh air assaulted him, and moved through the hall to the kitchen, praying that someone had made some sort of food. 

 

He found Lydia, Scott and Kira seated at the table eating some pancakes. Sighing in relief he joined them, a plate already set out for him. "Dude. I am like starving." He muttered to no one in particular before smothering his pancakes in syrup.

 

"I bet." Lydia drew out softly with a smirk. 

 

Stiles was able to ignore her, the sticky sweet goodness of his pancakes taking all his attention. He did glance up between mouthfuls though, looking at everyone. He noticed that Scott didn't seem to be gagging from his smell anymore and was glad about that. 

 

"Crap, you're bleeding."

 

Stiles looked up at Kira with a frown, and followed her gaze down to his arms and swore when he saw fresh blood. He went to stand up but Kira was already flying past him to the bathroom, and coming back with a first aid kid. She pulled a chair beside him and motioned for him to scoot forward. Pouting Stiles managed to shove one more large bite of pancakes in his mouth before doing so, and Kira set to work quickly redoing his bandages. When she was done she smiled up at him sweetly and ruffled his hair, a very weird motherly gesture that had him rolling his eyes. "Jesus Scott. Get this chick a puppy or something."

 

Scott snorted. "She already has one, actually. Just got it.'

 

"What?! Why have I yet to see this adorable flee bag?"

 

"Why don't I bring it to the loft sometime!" Kira perked up, returning to sit beside Scott and settling her hand on his knee with a happy smile.

 

Scott chuckled as he ate. "If you can convince Derek somehow."

 

"Wouldn't it be kind of hypocritical for him to say no anyways? I mean technically, you all are canines, you know." Stiles offered, trying to help, apparently it didn't though, cause Scott just cut a dry stare up at him before shaking his head. "Just trying to help."Stiles muttered before rising and taking his plate to sit in the sink. He poured himself a glass of orange juice and leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the wall a moment.

 

"You okay, dude?" Scott asked him, a look of mild concern on his face.

 

Stiles snorted. "Not even remotely. But there's no use complaining about it, right?" Scott was in front of him within seconds, laying a firm hand on his shoulder. 

 

"Hey. We're going to stop him. Deaton's been doing a lot of research into this. We're not powerless."

 

Stiles nodded, patting Stiles hand. "Yeah, Scotty. Okay. So, what is this weapon he's making?" He lifted his hand and mindlessly began to fiddle with the moonstone amulet Deaton had given him what seemed like forever ago. 

 

Scott frowned, getting a familiar look on his face. The one that said 'I don't understand any of this but I'll try to follow along'. Stiles stifled a sigh and scratched idly at his head, waiting. "Deaton's been going through various lore, looking over mythical weapons that people have used in the past, and he think he's found one that will be able to stop the Slaugh."

 

Stiles arched a brow. "Alright. And what's so special about this weapon?"

 

"From what Deaton say's it's basically like the kryptonite of the supernatural world."

 

Stiles scowled. "And why the hell are we only now hearing about this? Why haven't we had this thing in the past?"

 

Scott's face fell a bit, until the look on his face was stunted and unsure. "Apparently it's hard to assemble."

 

" _Assemble,_ Scott? What does that mean exactly?"

 

"There are a lot of parts - ingredients he needs. Some are hard to come by."

 

Stiles resisted the urge to throw a damned fit. Lifting his hands he scrubbed them over his face, trying to calm himself down. "Okay, so how is this supposed to help us, again?"

 

"Deaton's already been trying to gather the ingredient's. He's out of town right now, visiting some emissary a few states over to gather more."

 

Sighs just sighed, refusing to dwell on the fact that they didn't have time to wait for Deaton to 'assemble' some all powerful weapon. Then again he wasn't sure why he was so aggravated. It wasn't like they had any other idea's of how to defeat Ryan. Well, except for the cutting his head off one. And honestly Stiles was really feeling that at the moment. It wasn't like the guy could just grow a new head. Right? God if he did Stiles was just throwing in the towel. Cause, seriously, what would be the point anymore? "I just hate sitting around waiting for Deaton." 

 

"We know that Lydia's scream works against the Slaugh." Kira offered suddenly, glancing over to Lydia who arched a brow. "We can't just like...let her scream and then all of us attack when it's weak?"

 

"Great idea! I love that idea!" Stiles throws his hands up, looking expectantly to Scott. 

 

Scott frowns at him before shaking his head. "I don't know. It just seem's like it might not be a good idea to try and go after this thing until we're sure we can beat it."

 

Stiles drew back at that, unable to believe what he had just heard. "Are you serious? This thing is killing people, Scott. You're saying we should just do nothing about that?"

 

"No! That's not what I'm saying. I just -ah!" Scott moved away to start pacing, his eyes flashing red with his frustration. "It's my job to protect my pack, Stiles! I don't want to face this thing blindly, grasping at straws!"

 

" _Since when_?!" Stiles pushed away from the counter to stand in front of him. "If I seem to remember correctly, that's all you do Scott! How many fucking times have you charged head first into battle without any type of plan?! Hell half the time you didn't even  _tell us_."

 

"That was before!" Scott yelled at him, his body tense.

 

"Before what?!"

 

"Before people we cared about started getting hurt and dying!" The alpha all but bellowed, his eyes glowing bright red. "And I'm not just talking about the Slaugh. I mean  _everyone_. How many people have gotten hurt because we didn't take the time to think things through, Stiles? How many people had died? We can't do that anymore! I  _won't_ do that anymore. I'm not going to put a member of my pack in danger!"

 

"So what about everyone else, huh, Scott? What about the town? They're not part of your pack but does mean they're not important? How are we supposed to protect them,  _Scott_?!"

 

"I don't fucking know! But I'm not going to risk someone I care about being killed trying to do it!"

 

Stiles glared at Scott, feeling the tension in the room, the way Lydia and Kira just sat stock still, almost too afraid to move or speak. He swung away with a curse, marching out of the kitchen.

 

"Where are you going?!" Scott stomped after him.

 

"I'm going to tell my dad what happened so he can have his deputies out watching the street's.  _Someone's_ got to do something." He grabbed his shoes from the living room and slipped them on just as Malia and Liam walked in. _  
_

 

"What's going on?" Malia asked past a yawn, looking between Scott and Stiles with a frown.

 

"Nothing." Stiles told her curtly. "Just you guys - do whatever the hell it is you do. I'll be back later." As he moved to grab his key's from the coffee table he noticed that Derek was sitting on the stairs, his eyes on him. Stiles felt his gut clench and wondered how long he had been sitting there, but he was too worked up and angry to even process regular speech so he just turned, heading for the door. "I'll be back." He mumbled again before slamming the door behind him. Once outside he paused, looking upwards and sucking in a deep sigh, trying to calm his raging nerves. Shaking his head he headed for the elevator and rode it down and out of the building. He knew he shouldn't be so mad at Scott, because despite how horrible it was, he understood where he was coming from. But Stiles just couldn't do it. He just couldn't sit around waiting on Deaton while other people could get hurt. Not that he had any idea what he was going to do, because he didn't. But just the fact that he was doing  _something_ made him feel so much better.

 

Once in his jeep he drove across town to the McCall house, seeing his dad's cruiser in the driveway. He had barely put the jeep in park when he was hopping out, walking with hurried steps up to the door. He was so used to just walking in that he didn't think to knock, and when he found his dad and Melissa curled up on the couch together - as in  _curled up on the couch together -_ watching TV. Stiles stood there like an idiot sputtering while his dad jumped so high that he sent a bowl of popcorn that had been on his lap flying through the air, the next minute grabbing his gun from his holster. Melissa gasped, twisting around with a hand over her chest, her eyes large. When the two of them saw that it was only him his dad swore for a full ten seconds before throwing some even more choice words his way.

 

"Stiles what the hell are you doing?!"

 

Stiles stared, mouth gaping a moment before pointing towards the couch. "You guys were cuddling!" He looked to the TV then and his eyes bulged. "You guys were cuddling while watching  _Crazy, Stupid, Love?!_ " He gave a strangled gasp. " _You guys are_   **dating**!"

 

His dad marched over to him and slammed the front door shut before grabbing his shoulder and dragging him inside. "Stiles,  _shut up_."

 

Stiles grinned one of the biggest, dopiest grin's he had ever grinned. "Dude, you guys are  _so_ dating! Dad you're  _actually_ blushing! Does Scott know?"

 

Melissa stood with a sigh, a small smile on her face. "No, Stiles. It didn't really happen until recently."

 

"Awww." Stiles couldn't help it. Damn he felt like all the warm and fuzzies in the world were presently taking up residence inside his body. "I'm so happy for you two kids!"

 

His dad cuffed him on the back of the head before moving back to the living room to begin picking up the popcorn he had spilt. Melissa frowned suddenly, her eyes taking him in.

 

"Stiles, what happened to your arms?"

 

His dad drew up instantly and turned to look at him, before dropping the popcorn bowl again and rushing to him. "What happened? Are you okay?"

 

Stiles cringed as his dad grabbed at his arms. "Yeah I'm fine. Well, maybe. Actually Melissa could you look at them and see if they need stitches?" The bandages were bloodied again, and his wounds were stinging like a son of a bitch.

 

Melissa gently pushed John aside and pulled one of his bandages down. She blew out a hiss in sympathy, shaking her head. "Okay yeah. These are definitely going to need sutra's. Lucky for you once I realized boogeymen were real I started stocking supplies here, just in case. I'll go get them from upstairs. John why don't you take him to the bathroom and help him wash the wounds?"

 

John nodded instantly and began to pull Stiles down the hall. "What the hell happened?" He demanded as the entered the small room.

 

Stiles sighed, sitting down on the toilet seat as his dad got a clean wash rag and lathered it up. "You want the 'let me carve out my heart and show you the scars' version or the 'my life literally sucks I should have known' one." At John's pointed stare Stiles slumped slightly, holding his arm out as his dad pushed his sleeves up further and took of the bandage carefully. "We know who the Slaugh is." He watched as his dad pressed the cloth against his wounds, wincing. "It's Ryan."

 

John paused at that, his brows rising high as he looked up at Stiles. "What?"

 

Stiles gave a bitter laugh, nodding his head. "Yup. My thoughts exactly. But it's him.....And he had been lying to me the entire time."

 

"Ah, hell, son." The cleaning of his wounds momentarily forgotten, John leaned back against the sink, looking down at Stiles with sympathy. "I'm sorry. That's.."

 

"Pretty fucked up." Stiles offered.

 

John sighed but just nodded his head. "How you holding up, kid?"

 

"Honestly? I'm shocked that I haven't had a nervous break down." Stiles admitted softly, licking his lips. "And now me and Scott are fighting."

 

"What? What are you two fighting about?"

 

Stiles watched as his dad began cleaning at the wound again. "He thinks we shouldn't go after Ryan until Deaton get's back from this trip he's on. Apparently there's this weapon that he believes can stop the Slaugh, and he's going to get it. Or get what he needs to assemble it, at least."

 

"And how long is he going to be gone for?"

 

Stiles shrugged slightly. "I don't know. Scott said he may get back some time tomorrow."

 

"Well that isn't very long." John offered, moving to his other wound to begin cleaning it as well. 

 

"It's long enough." Stiles drew out. "Ryan can kill or infect a dozen people if he wanted to."

 

"I know, Stiles, but you can't make yourself solely responsible for stopping him. That's what your friends are for. That's what I'm for."

 

Stiles groaned at that thought, before looking at his dad in a way a toddler might for accidentally braking a lamp.

 

John drew straight, narrowing his eyes. "Stiles, what did you do?"

 

"Well it's just that I sort of might have gone to Ryan's house by myself when I realized he was the Slaugh. And I may have...I don't know...stole your gun from your bedroom closet."

 

John's swore loudly, trying to pace in the small area but unable to. He twisted back around to Stiles. "Where is it?"

 

"Uh...most likely still at Ryan's house. In his bedroom. Also! Just - before you start again, I feel like I should tell you that there are two dead bodies in his basement."

 

John stared at him a long moment before leaning against the bathroom door for support. For a long moment he doesn't say anything, and Stiles knows that his dad is trying to control the urge to strange him to death. Which he really appreciates. "Are you  _trying_ to put me in an early grave? I mean seriously, Stiles! What the hell were you thinking?!"

 

Stiles stands up feebly, knowing nothing he really said was going to make any of this better, so he doesn't even try, just offers a short 'sorry' once again. John glares at him silently for a ridiculously long moment before suddenly pulling him in for a tight hug, one that Stiles is all to willing to return. 

 

"Dammit....I'll never get used to this."

 

Stiles smiles sadly, wanting to say something witty, but holding it back because he knows it will only upset his dad even more. 

 

"Alright, well come on. I'll call Parrish and let him know." His dad opens the door and they shuffle out, finding Melissa sitting patiently in the living room. She smiles softly at them before motioning for Stiles to sit in front of her and he does so. Getting stitched up isn't fun. Like, at all. But there's really no other way around it so he forces himself to sit as still as his ADHD riddled body will allow and grit's his teeth through the worst of it. When she's done she bandages him up again and hands him some aspirin for the pain. Stiles takes them gratefully and drowns them with a glass of water from the kitchen. 

 

He stays with Melissa when his father leaves, casually (or at least what he believes) bringing up the fact that she's dating his dad now. Melissa, unlike his dad, takes it in stride, not blushing once. Just grinning and patting his arm and saying 'Well we all knew it was going to happen sooner or later', and he kind of really loves her for that. Like, a lot. 

 

About an hour later his dad gives him a call, letting him know that he took care of the gun and the bodies are being properly dealt with. He also tell's Stiles something that has his gut clenching happily, and maybe a few stray tears falling. Apparently the large white dog was still in the house when they got there. It all but mauled them before they could calm it down enough to get it in the back of a vehicle. The Sheriff wants to know if Scott can meet him at Denton's so they can put the dog up. Stiles is so excited that he calls Scott himself and tell's him to meet up shortly. Melissa's shift was starting soon anyway so they both say bye from there, giving a brief hug before Stiles is jumping in his jeep and racing to the vet. When he get's there Scott is standing beside his motorcycle, his helmet under his arm. Stiles remembers the fight they had then and sighs.

 

Climbing out of his jeep he approaches the other boy, who smiles weakly and tilt's his head in greeting. "Hey."

 

Stiles stops before him, and then just sighs and pull's him in for a hug. "Come on. Bring it in."

 

Scott grins immediately, hugging him back. "I'm sorry. You were right."

 

"No, I wasn't. At least not fully. We're both right. I know that you don't want anyone in town to get hurt, but I know that you don't want to put any of us in danger without knowing what the risk's are."

 

"It's just...Deaton's  _got_ to get this thing. But after you left we all talked about it and agreed that we can't just sit around either. So we called Argent and he and his men are out on patrol tonight, and we're going to go out too."

 

"Are you sure?" Stiles asked.

 

Scott gave a sigh but shrugged. "Argent and his people may be hunters, but their just human's. We're at least on the same level as this thing. Sort of.  _Shit_ I really hate this."

 

"I know. We'll be careful, okay?"

 

Scott nodded, hand at the back of his neck, and Stiles realized how hard it was for him. He had an entire pack to protect. As an Alpha it was his responsibility. And while Stiles liked to believe that the pack as a whole protected one another, he knew that his friends werewolf instincts were telling him to do anything and everything to keep them safe. 

 

The cruiser was pulling in then, and Stiles twisted around, his mouth lifting in a wide grin as he approached his dad's car. He could see the dog in the back window, pacing the length of the back seat, and knew that it was most likely whining. The dog looked out the window then and saw him, and Stiles laughed as it barked and stared pawing at the glass. "Hey buddy!" He ran up to the car, lifting his hand to lay flat across the glass as his dad got out of the car. The Sheriff frowned, turning to look at the dog. 

 

"Of course. The damned thing snarl's at us and near about rips my deputies hands off but it turns into an overgrown puppy around you."

 

Stiles gave a crooked grin up at his dad. "I'm the wolf tamer, you should know that by now." He opens the car door and the dog bounds out immediately, running around the car until it is shoving against his legs whining. And even though it looks about twenty pounds lighter than it should be, the thing is gigantic and he has to steady himself on the cruiser so he doesn't fall backwards. "Aww did you miss me buddy?" The dog noses at his hand and Stiles immediately starts petting it's soft, thick fur. He notices that there is actually a pale blue collar around it's neck and moves it around a bit until he see's a name tag, and start's bursting out laughing.

 

"What's so funny?" Scott ask's as he approaches, eyeing the dog a bit warily. 

 

"Dude, it's name is Thor.  _Thor._ " Stiles drops down in front of it and start's cooing ridiculously. "Aww aren't you just a big doggy superhero, saving my life like that." He looks back up at Scott with a laugh as the dog lick's his face. " _Seriously,_ bro. This dog was made for me."

 

"Oh no you don't." John roll's his eyes, his hands on his hips. "We are not getting a dog, Stiles."

 

Stiles pouts, clutching his hands in the dog's fur. "But Daaaaad. Thor saved my life. For real. If it weren't for him I would be locked in some basement with those dead bodies just waiting to be fed on by the Slaugh. And look at him! He's all starved and sad looking. You can't say no to that!"

 

John glares a full twenty seconds before finally rolling his eyes. "Fine. But!" He interrupts when Stiles is about to do a victory fist pump. "He's your responsibility. You feed him. You walk him. You got that?"

 

Stiles nod's eagerly and wrap's his arms around the dog, seriously already feeling a freaking attachment. But he guesses that is pretty normal. Thor had saved his life, after all. 

 

"It's still a good idea to keep him in quarantine for a while at least." Scott says, because of course he had to kill the happy moments. "We have to check him and make sure he's healthy. Aside from the malnutrition, of course."

 

Stiles pokes out his lip but nods. "I'll come see you every day, buddy." 

 

"Alright, well I've got to get back to the station. This is going to be a mess and I need to get on it now."

 

Stiles nod's and looping his hand through Thor's collar turns and pull's his dad into a one armed hug. His dad hold's him tightly before pulling away.

 

"Get your ass back to the loft. And for the love of god if you do one more stupid thing I'm going to disown you."

 

"Oh. Disown. That's a new one." Stiles grins when his dad just shakes his head and head's back to his cruiser. "Alright, come on buddy." He begins to lead Thor to the clinic door, which Scott unlocks and let's them in. "So what breed do you think he is?" He vaguely ask's Scott as they head down the halls to a room where they keep their stray animals when they come in.

 

Scott glances down at Thor a moment. "I'm thinking he's Akita. He's got all the features. And once he's back at his normal weight he'll be even more huge, so good luck with that."

 

"Oh you're just going to be a gigantic cuddly wolf, aren't you." Stiles bends down to talk to Thor, laughing as the dog lift's it's head and lick's his cheek.

 

"Mmh. I thought you already had one of those."

 

The come back is so unexpected that Stiles nearly face plants. Glaring at Scott he straighten's. "Har har har. You think you're funny, don't you."

 

Scott sighs as he get's a large bowl and fills it with dog food, sitting it in front of Thor, who sniff's it before beginning to eat with a vengeance. "Actually I'm a little concerned."

 

Stiles arches a brow. "What? Why?"

 

"Stiles I've known you nearly all your life. i know how obsessive you can be when you like someone."

 

"Hey! I'm not obsessive. I'm just passionate."

 

"Right." Scott rolls his eyes at him before growing serious again. "It's just - I don't want this to end badly, you know?"

 

"Dude we just borrowed each other's hands. It's not like we-"

 

"Oh my god please shut up!" Scott hissed out, his eyes flashing red. Stiles tried to stifle his laugh. "I'm being serious, Stiles. We've been doing so good lately, and even though Derek isn't technically of my pack, he's still a part of it in one way or another, if even by association. And you're my best friend. I don't want this to blow up in both your faces and have the two of you trying to kill each other. Again." He deadpanned at that. "It will just put too much strain on the pack."

 

"Hey, that's not fair, you know. You and Kira are dating, and so is Malia and Liam. Hell what about Lydia and Parrish?"

 

Scott shook his head with sigh. "Yeah, Stiles. We're  _dating_. We're not just having casual sex. This is real for us."

 

Stiles drew off on that, because really, what the fuck was he supposed to say? He and Derek weren't dating. They were friends, yeah. Good friends. The best of friends. But anything else? And now suddenly they wanted to have sex with each other and had already gave each other hand jobs. So, really, Scott had a point. "Yeah. I know." He said softly, staring down at Thor's head as the dog ate.

 

Scott moved towards him, tilting his head so he could see Stiles expression. "Do you  _want_ to be more with him?"

 

Stiles felt anxiety shoot through him at that question, and automatically drew in on himself, wrapping an arm around his wait. He shook his head, but even Scott must have been able to see that the motion was not fully put together. Sighing he just gave a weak shrug. "I don't know, Scott. I really don't, okay? I'm just a little confused about this whole thing actually."

 

Scott nodded, silent a moment as he laid a hand to Stiles shoulder. "Well, it's too late to say maybe you should figure that out before doing something you'll regret - not that I'm saying you do, but maybe you should really think about it before you do anything else."

 

Stiles sighed and grabbed another large bowl, moving to fill it with water at the tap after Thor had finished his food and was nosing around the floor. He sat it down and the dog set in to drinking instantly. "Yeah. You're right. I will I promise, okay?"

 

Scott nodded and patted his shoulder a moment before leaning down to hesitantly try and pet Thor. The dog stiffened but after some soft coaxing from Stiles relaxed enough to let Scott pet him.

 

Stiles kind of felt like a badass in that moment.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guy's i decided to upload the playlist that created the whole story. I think you should give it a listen :P I'm gonna go ahead and admit that the very last song on the playlist...jesus i ball every time i hear it lol I'll give a spoiler and let you all know it's the song for the very last chapter and.....*sigh* i can't even lol
> 
> anyway just click on the playlist and it will take ya there :) 
> 
> [Animal Instincts playlist](http://8tracks.com/ship_sailor4life/animal-instincts-playlist?utm_medium=trax_embed) from [Ship_Sailor4life](http://8tracks.com/ship_sailor4life?utm_medium=trax_embed) on [8tracks Radio](http://8tracks.com?utm_medium=trax_embed).


	43. Scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles & Derek talk about what happened between them. The pack witnesses a tragedy, which lead's to something even more foreboding.

Scott's words are still heavy on his conscious when they return to the loft. He's not very surprised to find the rest of the pack lazing around in their pajama's still in front of the TV. Derek, of course, being to go getter he was, was in a pair of sinfully tight jeans and an even tighter faded red short sleeve tee that had three buttons along the top. All three undone of course. Hey. Stiles wasn't gonna judge the guy for wanting to show off that gorgeous chest hair. Chest hair that he had someone how not even ran his fingers through last night. And seriously what was up with  _that?_ He'd have to be sure to get a good grip of the stuff the next time they - ah shit. Hadn't he and Scott just talked about this? Wanting to throw back his head and groan in protest he instead moved to the living room, feeling Derek's eyes trailing him as he took a seat casually on the arm of the recliner the wolf was residing in. Derek didn't say anything about his ass placement, and nobody really paid much attention to him either, too focused on watching whatever the hell was on TV. Glancing up briefly he saw the familiar image of a Spanish guy in a lucha libre mask and couldn't help but grin - cause damn he liked that Telenovela, no matter how ridiculous it was. But now was not the time. Now he had more pressing issues to address. Issues such as talking with Derek about what had happened last night.

 

Even saying that to himself Stiles felt his gut clench in anxiety. He really didn't want to do this, but he knew Scott and Lydia would never leave him the hell alone unless he did. Soooooo look's like he was going to have to get a bit uncomfortable. On the plus side, if he and Derek took a ride down to the Preserve to discuss their...love life? He didn't even know what to call it. But he could smoothly try to gather some thick branches from various ash tree's. Because, yeah. He was still going to try and save Ryan. It wasn't like the guy had asked for it, but Stiles didn't really care. He got that he had killed and infected so many people already. This wasn't Stiles being naive enough to think that if he  _did_ cure him it would make things better again. Regardless - Ryan had crossed a line that he would never be able to retreat from. No matter what he said or did. If Stiles somehow managed to cure him, then he was handing him over to the Argent's to deal with accordingly. And whatever that 'accordingly' was, he'd just hope that it was what they thought just. Clearing his throat none to subtly, Stiles didn't quite look down at the wolf. "So...Derek."

 

He could practically feel Derek's brow's rising. "Stiles."

 

Stiles continued to glance all nonchalantly at the TV screen. "Don't you wanna go for a ride? Get some curly fries maybe?"

 

Derek's frown only deepened. "Not particularly. I was never that big on curly fries, as you know."

 

Before Stiles even had time to dwell on how incredibly dense Derek could be sometimes Kira was perking up on the couch. "I'll go with you!"

 

Stiles stared at her wide eyed enthusiasm and wanted to die. Luckily Lydia, ever the genius, was on point and shook her head at Kira, grabbing her hand and pulling her back to the couch. "No." Was all she said to the confused girl.

 

Vowing to make Lydia a shrine and worship her until he died, Stiles finally turned to Derek with a sigh. The wolf had turned back to his book but looked up at Stiles now, his brow furrowed. "Okay no curly fries. I still think we should go for a ride." He tried  to put as much meaning into his eyes as possible, and thankfully it seemed to work, because Derek stiffened slightly, before nodding, closing his book. Sighing in relief Stiles stood, twitching a bit impatiently.

 

"Well if you do go get curly fries could you bring me some back?" Kira asked with a pout.

 

Stiles honestly didn't know if he wanted to laugh more or give her a hug, saying something along the lines of 'bless her heart'. In the end, he just grinned. "Yes, Kira. I promise."

 

Kira seemed pleased with that and turned back to cuddling with Scott, who for once in his life was completely aware of what was going on and seemed to be trying not to faceplam. Derek was beside him then, and heading for the door, and Stiles rushed to keep up with him, really hoping that this didn't come back to slap him in his face.

 

"Where are we driving to exactly?" Derek asked gruffly as they headed for the lift.

 

"Could we actually go to the Preserve? There are some things I need to gather." Derek turned a frown his way and he shrugged. "After doing some research I found out that we may be able to use ash wood against the Slaugh." It wasn't a lie. At all. It wasn't the entire truth, sure, but Derek's wolf-lie radar wouldn't know that.

 

Derek just grunted before pressing the button to send the lift down, and Stiles tried not to be too dramatic and  think of the decent as a direct metaphor for how having this conversation with Derek could possibly send whatever they have spiraling downward.

 

********************************************

 

 

The drive to the Preserve was...stressful to say the least. And it wasn't like Derek thought that at some point what had happened between them wasn't going to come up. He knew that Stiles wouldn't be able to hold it in that long, but damn if it didn't make him nervous. And the fact that he was nervous in the first place was really not sitting well. Last night had been...amazing. More than amazing. And while Derek's wolf had screamed to claim Stiles fully, by the end of the night it had been all but purring in his chest, grateful to have even experienced anything at all with Stiles. God Derek couldn't get the image of Stiles out of his head. The smooth lines of his body, the sharp angels and pale, mole dotted skin. Even now, sitting beside him in his Camero, Stiles smelled like  _him_. Derek had embedded himself deep in his scent, and he fucking loved it. Wanted to climb over the seat and rub himself even more against Stiles, transferring more of himself into the boy. The instinct was so strong that Derek had to clench his fist's onto the steering wheel, his knuckles bleeding white. 

 

He chanced a glance over to Stiles, finding him slouched slightly in the seat, elbow on the window sill and his face resting in his hand as he looked at the buildings as they passed. His body language suggested ease and even boredom, but Derek could smell the nervousness coming off of him in waves. It both worried him, and made him feel better. At least he wasn't alone in his discomfort. 

 

"So I'm getting a dog."

 

The words were so sudden and unexpected that Derek just found himself staring at Stiles for a long moment. Which really wasn't good, considering he was driving. Jerking his gaze back to the road he saw that he had indeed been slowly swerving to the left and positioned the car back in the middle of the road. "What?"

 

"The dog at Ryan's house, the one that saved me, it was still there when my dad went. It's at the clinic right now, and has to go through some quarantine thing to make sure it's not sick, but my dad's letting me keep it. I think he kind of felt like he had to. Because of the whole saving me and stuff."

 

Derek tried not to let it show how much it bothered him that some dog had saved Stiles life, and not him. "Good. I'm glad." And he was. A small sense of joy radiated from Stiles when he spoke of the animal, and Derek was fine with anything that made Stiles happy. "If you want you can keep it at the loft until -" Until what? Until all this is over? Until they figure out what's going on with them? There were so many things that could finish that sentence.

 

Stiles looked up at Derek with wide eyes, clearly surprised. "You're serious?"

 

Derek licked his lips and glanced down at him before turning back to the road. "Yes, Stiles. I can tell the dog had a positive effect on you. If it means that much to you then I don't mind." In that second Stiles scent's became a heady combination of emotions, that trickled along Derek's chest in a warm caress. He couldn't help it, he turned and looked back down at him, finding Stiles looking up at him, his lips parted and his eyes slightly dilated, dark with emotion. Derek pull in a groan before it could breech his lips, and looked back at the road, his jaw tight. Jesus he thought after last night he wouldn't want Stiles quite as bad. But he did. Somehow even more so. 

 

"Thanks." Stiles said softly beside him, before wrapping his arms around his middle and turning to look out the window again. The scent of his arousal lingered in the air, warm and thick, and Derek's nostril's flared greedily, trying to inhale it all, keep it trapped deep inside of him. Releasing a shaky breath, Derek turned on his radio, needing a distraction so he didn't pull his car to the side of the road and attack Stiles. 

 

When they pulled into the preserve, he was all too eager to get out of the car and stretch his legs, clear his head, and quickly cut the ignition and tried to force himself not to all but bolt out. Shutting the door behind him Derek ran a large hand over his face and down his scruff, rubbing it with his fingers a moment before turning to Stiles. "So what exactly are we here for?"

 

Stiles hurried around the car until he was standing beside him. "Ash tree's." He said, eye's scanning the area. He dug in his pocket then and produced a folded piece of computer paper, handing it to Derek.

 

Derek took it and unfolded it, looking down at the three small photo's of the different type of ash tree's on the preserve. Two he saw fairly often, but they may have trouble locating the third. "And this is for the Slaugh?"

 

Stiles nodded without turning to him, beginning to walk towards the tree's. "I figure Deaton's making his own weapon, so why don't we, you know?"

 

"You don't think Deaton's will work?" Derek followed him, searching the tree's as they walked.

 

"I think I'd rather have a plan B just in case." He muttered.

 

Derek nodded in understanding. Stiles had always been the logical one. The one to go over the exact details of any of their plans they tended to rush head first into. He had a brilliant mind that Derek knew came from years of living with father and sneaking case files. In fact, Derek wouldn't be surprised if Stiles ended up going into law of some kind, once he graduated. That thought made him pause, and he slowed in his steps, staring ahead blankly. This was Stiles senior year, wasn't it? Derek knew that he had always wanted to go to college, and to leave Beacon Hills. Did he still plan on that? He looked up, watching Stiles back as the boy moved effortlessly through the woods, something that Derek figured he must have gained from leeching into his werewolf abilities. That thought brought up a whole new mess of other's.  _Could_ Stiles even leave now that he was linked with Derek? Would it mess up the connection somehow? Would Stiles regress to how he had been before the Deaton had done the ritual? Somehow they had never thought to ask the druid the questions, and Derek was left wondering what all else he didn't know. 

 

"I think we kind of need to talk about last night."

 

Stiles' hesitant, soft voice pulled Derek out of his thoughts, and he looked up to find Stiles still walking, though his body was more tense. Nervous."Do you regret it?"

 

"What?" Stiles swirled on him, his brow low as he looked Derek over. "No." He said instantly, as if he were a bit offended Derek had even suggested. "It was...I mean dude what can I say? I've never really felt anything like that before."

 

Derek tried not to put any deeper meaning to his words and just nodded, his eyes darkening slightly as he stared at Stiles. "Good. Because neither do I."

 

For a moment they just stood there, looking at each other, lust drifting on the wind between the two of them, and then Stiles was swinging away with a groan, shaking his head. "Ah! You've got to stop that! I can't think straight when you do the whole horny predator look!"

 

Derek couldn't help but arch a brow. "Horny predator look?"

 

"Yeah, you know, the one where I can't tell if you want to have sex with me or chase me through the woods and pounce."

 

Derek grinned, a gleam in his eyes. "Who says we can't do both?" Because holy hell did he want to chase Stiles through the woods. His wolf paced anxiously at the thought, and the memory of doing just that the last time they trained at the preserve was still fresh in his mind, and Derek felt himself growing hard as he remembered how it had felt to tackle Stiles to the ground, pinning his body down against the dirt and leaves. The fact that he had somehow stayed in control that day was a miracle. 

 

Stiles lifted his head up to the sky as if he were praying for patience before turning a narrowed gaze back to Derek. "I feel like you're deliberately  _trying_ to make this difficult for me." 

 

And yeah, maybe he was a bit. But why? Why did his gut clench so painfully with the thought of what this 'talk' could mean? Why was he so confused and unsure of everything when it came to Stiles? Somehow Stiles was able to make him feel more helpless than he had in years, and the hard, unyielding part of himself that he spent so much time on to strengthen felt weak, riddled with holes in it's structure and without defense. "I'm sorry." He spoke softly, looking Stiles in the eyes.

 

Stiles hesitant gaze searched his eyes a moment before the boy nodded, looking down at the ground. "Scott's worried that what we're doing - what we did, could end up hurting the pack."

 

Derek sighed after a moment, looking sideways. "He has a point, you know." Stiles gaze lifted again in surprise. "In a pack there is a certain...ordinance. A way to live by. And if pack members end up becoming something more and it falls through then - well it can cause problems." Derek looked back at Stiles. "But that's the thing, Stiles. I'm not part of Scott's pack."

 

Stiles huffed out a sigh before moving forward until he was standing a few feet away from Derek, his face showing slight annoyance. "You know that's bullshit, right? I mean yeah, you haven't exactly submitted to the guy, but you're still associated with the pack. Even Scott said so. Derek you're a part of this. Of us. You're our friend. And not just mine!" He said, holding up his hand and cutting off Derek before he could speak. "Look, I know you and Scott have problems sometimes, don't always agree on things, but hell hardly any of us do. That doesn't make you any less pack."

 

Derek stared at Stiles a long moment. "You were right, you know. About this morning. I understand that Scott want's to protect the people he cares about, but what he doesn't get is that when you're a pack it also mean's protecting your territory. Beacon Hills is his territory. It's the pack's duty to make sure the people within it are safe."

 

Stiles smiled softly. "Yeah, I know. And he get's that now. Give him time. I promise Scott's going to be one bad ass Alpha."

 

"As long as he has you I'm sure he will." Derek could tell that Stiles tried not to be to satisfied by his words but the boy couldn't hide the way his face heated as he glanced sideways, a small smile on his lips. "I'm serious. You have no idea how much of an impact you have on him. Even though he's not a born werewolf, lately all his head's filled with is his own pack. You keep a sturdy link to the rest of the world for him. Remind him what it's like to be human.  I'm pretty sure without you he'd be be dead by now as well."

 

Stiles was now so red that Derek was a bit worried. And it wasn't his face. It shot high up his neck and he imagined that it was coloring the pale skin of his chest as well. Derek tried to keep himself from ripping the boy's shirt off to confirm. "Freaking jalapeno on a stick, dude!" Stiles moved nervously, his hands pretty much going everywhere as he tried to reign in his nerves. "Way to make a dude embarrassed, Big Guy."

 

Derek chuckled softly, really wanting to just mess with him more and see how nervous he could make him, but didn't want to give Stiles a heart attack or anything. "If you were a Druid I'd say you'd be an amazing Emissary. Either way, you're basically that as it is."

 

Stiles tapped his foot on the ground a few seconds, pursing his lips and looking around before eyeing Derek. "If this is an attempt to get at my dick again - it's a good one."

 

It was the most ridiculous and unexpected thing Derek had imagined Stiles would say, and it caught him completely off guard, and before he knew it, he was laughing. Really laughing. It wasn't a sound he had heard in a very long time, however sad that may be, his his chest felt suddenly light. Easy. Stiles stood across from him, his mouth slack and his eyes wide, watching Derek with a look of sheer shock. Derek finally stopped laughing, licking his lips and settling for a slight smile. He stared at Stiles a moment before lifting his brows and a full body jerk caught Stiles before he twisted around and started stomping into the woods, muttering something about things not being fair, and Derek noticed with glee that he smelled heavily of arousal again. Derek just stood there a moment, a smug grin on his face as he watched Stiles walk, his eyes sliding lazily down his shoulders and waist, to his ass, which looked ridiculously amazing in the jean's Lydia was all but forcing him to wear now days. He'd really have to thank her for that later. Derek remembered how that ass looked out of jeans, remembered Stiles bending over to pick up some pants that morning. It had taken ever ounce of will he had not to surge up and dig his fingers into Stiles hips, pulling him back onto his dick. The image made pleasure shoot straight down between his leg's and Derek closed his eyes on a growl.

 

"Oh my god, stop it! We're supposed to be talking- something I'm fabulous at, and I can't because my brain is too stupid from lust!" Stiles swung around on him with a hiss before shaking his head and beginning to mutter to himself. "Whatever. Just find the tree's. Got to find the tree's first. GIve yourself something to concentrate on."

 

Derek rolled his eyes but realized that Stiles was right. For now at least. If they stood more of a chance against the Slaugh with these weapons then Derek needed to concentrate on getting them. Steadying his thoughts he tipped his head back slightly and scented the forest, his eyes traveling somewhere to the right. "This way." Derek called to Stiles, turning from the path and plunging into the woods.

 

Stiles twisted around, watching him with wide eyes. "What? You're sure?"

 

"Yes." Was all Derek said before he heard Stiles rushing after him, cursing a few times about low hanging branches and how he hoped he didn't get any ticks on him. Derek couldn't help but roll his eyes and shake his head. The guy had the brains and will to be a werewolf, but not particularly the mentality. Derek would hate to see him running around in the woods as a true wolf. He'd get more than tick's on him. 

 

"So I'm just going to come right out and say this." Stiles called from behind him. "I don't think we should do anything again. At least not until we know what we want. Or, I mean, I don't know if you know what you want or anything but I don't particularly know what I want - well other than you're seriously amazing cock, but I don't think that's a very good reason. Or maybe it is I don't know. Maybe things are a little different for werewolves than humans. All I know is I want to be sure that what I'm doing is what I am sure I really want."

 

Derek stumbled slightly at the mention of his 'seriously amazing cock', but quickly regained his footing, hoping Stiles hadn't seen. He tried to listen to Stiles rambling, and make sense of the words that had come out far too quickly and close together, but by the time he was done Derek figured he pretty much understood what Stiles meant and nodded, stopping before a large tree. "I understand." Stiles came to stand beside him and he looked down at him. "It doesn't have to change anything, you know. You don't have to feel embarrassed around me."

 

Stiles looked away, and for some reason Derek felt like he had said the wrong words, but he wasn't really sure what else to say.

 

"So this is one of them, then?" Stiles said, pointing to the tree.

 

Derek nodded, returning to looking at it. "So what do you need from it?"

 

"Think you could just break off the first decent sized branch you can find? You know, nothing thin and sickly looking. Something that we can shape into a stake i guess."

 

Derek snorted but moved forward to do so. "Sure thing, Buffy." He wrapped his hand around a thick branch and snapped it easily, pulling it away and then breaking it again so it was only about a foot long.

 

Stiles scowled at him before grabbing the wood. "If I'm Buffy, then you're Spike."

 

"I'm okay with that. He was cooler than Angel, at least."

 

Stiles looked like he was genuinely wounded. "Hey. Angel was not only adorable but a tortured soul. Plus, when he got his own spin off he only grew in his awesome-hood."

 

Derek smiled slightly, turning and heading deeper into the woods, searching out the next tree. "Please. the Angel TV show only got good when James Marsters joined the cast."

 

"That is such shit, Derek. Spike only came in the final season of Angel, so you obviously had to have watched the first four seasons first and you don't watch all that unless you enjoyed it."

 

"What makes you think I didn't just skip the first four season's and just watched the fifth?" Jesus he knew it was stupid but he was having so much fun annoying Stiles.

 

Stiles glared at his back, pointing his finger at him. "Don't you dare. No one would do that." They walked a few minutes in silence. " _Did you do that, Derek?!"_

 

Derek laughed again, silently, his shoulders rising and falling. 

 

****************************************************************************

 

 

When they got back to the loft (with curly fries for Kira) Derek discoveres, in utter horror, that everyone had someone gotten their hands on a game of Twister, and were previously blaring music so loud that he was sure his ear drums would burst at any moment. Parrish was there, crouching on the floor and controlling the spinner, telling everyone what position to get into and laughing at everyone's struggle. Stiles took one look at them and shrieked,  _actually_ _shrieked_ , demanding they start the game over so he could play. Derek, feeling very much like a deer caught in the headlights, tried to make a B line up to his room but Stiles was grabbing his forearm and halting him. Derek's brow's rose and he looked from Stiles hand on his arm up to the boy's face a few times. Stiles apparently was no longer scared of that look, and tried to drag him into the living room. 

 

"Oh come on! At least just do the spinner!"

 

"Come on, Derek, do the spinner!" Kira whined, bouncing a bit.

 

Eventually Derek gave in with an eye roll. "I need to be drunk for this."

 

"You can't get drunk." Stiles said with a grin.

 

"My point exactly." He grumbled before moving to sit at his recliner, spinner on his lap. And so for the next hour he proceeded to thumb the dumb plastic arrow on the thin cardboard, his face a mask of boredom and annoyance, even though everyone else was screaming and laughing in joy. Then he began to notice how he was pretty much free to perv on Stiles when the boy was bent at odd angles, and the game may have gotten a bit more interesting. 

 

**********************************************************

 

 

Argent ended up giving them a call at around five that night, letting them know that he and his men were starting their patrol. Lydia had left earlier with Parrish, deciding to stay with him for his shift of cruising the street's and keeping a watchful eye, and everyone else was getting ready to head out as well. Derek was pulling on his leather jacket when he noticed that Stiles was pacing back and forth anxiously, his long fingers tapping against his thighs. Derek knew that he must have been a mess. He hadn't really delved much into Ryan being the Slaugh, but Derek figured that the wound was still too fresh and understood that he may not have been able to talk about it yet. And Derek would never force him. He knew too well what it was like to be betrayed. But because he  _did_ , he couldn't help but wonder if Stiles was thinking some pretty bad things, things that even Derek himself was not fully free of either. And that did bother him. Stiles was such a good person. The last thing he needed to feel was guilt. But Derek knew if he tried to get him to talk before he was ready then Stiles would just sling his walls up even higher and thicker than before. So he would just wait. And hope that Stiles knew he could talk to him if he needed.

 

Seeing as neither Liam or Malia can drive yet, they all take Stiles car to head into town, and to say the drive was a bit awkward would be a major understatement. Derek is highly aware that Stiles and Malia had dated only week's ago. And while Stiles doesn't seem to feel one way or another about that anymore Liam himself seem's to think of Stiles as a threat still, even though the boy never says it outright. But by the way he spends the entire drive in the backseat making out with Malia and casually throwing glances up at Stiles, Derek figures either he's trying to prove a point, or wants some weird threesome. Derek tries not to rip the boy's throat out at that thought. Stiles himself doesn't seem very comfortable with what's going on and keeps shooting narrowed glances behind him and telling them to stop desecrating his Baby when he hasn't even had the chance to do it. Derek arches a brow at that, and before he can stop it his thoughts are dwelling on images of he and Stiles in various positions in the back seat, and he knows Stiles must have felt it through his link because suddenly he's squirming in his seat and blushing hotly, not looking at Derek. 

 

When they finally park Stiles all but bolt's from his jeep and run's slightly shaky hands through his hair. Derek's getting out of the jeep when he a sound catches his ears, and he pauses, tilting his head slightly before flying from the jeep. Stiles jumps as he past's, his eyes wide. "Wh-?"

 

"Someone is screaming." Derek grit's out, feeling Malia and Liam at his back. He moves through the street's with wide eyes, trying to hone in on the sound, and then takes off running again. They had stopped near a small subdivision right at the heart of the town, and Derek found himself running to a playground, where a woman is presently screaming, on the ground over a small child. The smell of blood rushes to him, and Derek cringes. A man is holding back a boy who is maybe ten years old, who is gripping a little steel baseball bat. The boy is screaming madly, thrashing against the man's arms like a wild animal, and Derek feel's his throat close up when he see's that the boy's hair is streaked with white. He stumbles forward a few more steps, horror filling his wide eyes when he see's that the boy must have hit the little girl on the ground. The girl has no heart beat, and by the way the mother is wailing Derek knows that she is dead.

 

Stiles is suddenly beside him, his eyes incredibly wide and his body shaking. Derek swing's around to grab him as he tilt's sideways, releasing a choked sob. Malia and Liam stand at his side, too stunned to do anything but stare in horror. 

 

"Stiles, it's okay." Derek turns his body until Stiles can't see the tragedy behind him anymore, his hands gripping the boy tight to try and anchor him to reality.

 

Stiles' lips are drawn back tight, his face contorted in agony and his eyes are shinning with unshed tears. He lays a fist against Derek's shoulder, lowering his head and trying to calm himself, and Derek draw's him closer, wrapping his arms around him and wishing with everything he had that he could make it all go away somehow.

 

********************************************

 

 

Stiles stares at the ambulance numbly as it pull's away, and even though the doors are shut, he can still hear the mother's anguished sobs. Almost everyone had been cleared from the playground, the police taking the statements from the last few people while his Dad and Parrish take one from Derek, Malia and Liam. Every few seconds Derek and his dad glance over at him, and Stiles tries to ignore them, not wanting to see the worry or sympathy in their eyes. Lydia is sitting beside him, an arm around his waist, but he isn't really fully aware of her presence, too stuck in his own thoughts. 

 

He doesn't know what to feel anymore. A kid. It had just been a kid. How could Ryan.... Stiles bites down hard on his tongue so he doesn't sob, and wraps his arms around his waist. A child had just murdered another child. In cold blood. It should have never happened. And what only made it worst was the fact that Stiles knew the boy was going to die soon as well. They all did. So in the end two children will have died by the Slaugh's hand. It was...horrific. Tragic. And so very cruel. And while Ryan infecting teenagers was bad, a child was almost taboo. They were supposed to be pure. Innocent. To want to taint something like that was just sick and  _inhuman_. 

 

A heavy hand was on his shoulder suddenly, and Stiles jerked, looking up with wide eyes to see his father standing over him. "Stiles, are you okay?"

 

Stiles just stared up at his dad a moment, blinking slowly, sluggishly, almost as if his body were drugged. "It was a kid." He finds himself whispering.

 

John flinches, his face contorting in pain, but nodded. "Yeah. And I know what you must be thinking right now but-"

 

Stiles laughed. He couldn't help but to. "You have no idea what I'm thinking."

 

"Stiles this isn't your fault."

 

It was those exact words that Stiles hadn't wanted to hear. Those words that he knew would make him shatter. And they did. Stiles jerked up from the bench, putting distance between him and everyone else. "Except it kind of is, isn't it?" His dad shaking his head with a sigh and he watches as Derek moves forward slowly, hesitantly, to stand beside the Sheriff. "I mean, if I hadn't been so stubborn, ignoring everyone, then this wouldn't be happening." He gave a bitter laugh. "Because you all knew! All of you. And honestly it was so fucking obvious, now that I think about it. So why did I keep trying to convince you all otherwise?"

 

"Stiles you can't beat yourself up over this." Derek drew out softly. "You haven't done any of this. It wasn't you."

 

"Yeah well it might as well have been." Stiles said softly. He felt too weak to even scream. To yell and curse and fight. "I was so selfish. I was drifting away from everyone else and figured Ryan could be my new friend. Someone I could go to when I felt like I didn't fit in with you guys anymore. And I wanted that so damn bad that I let it get in the way of seeing what was right in front of me. If I had just saw what you guys saw then we may have been able to stop Ryan. We could have stopped all those people dying."

 

"You have no way of knowing that, Stiles." John said with a sigh. "It doesn't make you a bad person for becoming friends with someone, even if you didn't know they were lying to you."

 

Stiles looked from his dad and then Derek. "Yeah well I don't particularly feel like a good person right now either."

 

"Hey, I know, okay?" Derek spoke up, taking a step forward, shutting his eyes briefly. "Believe me I do. And you know that. I know what you're feeling right now, Stiles, and I know as bad as it feel's right now, and however much you're blaming yourself, it's not true."

 

Stiles cringed, looking away from Derek's face because he could see the honesty in it and he didn't want to accept that yet. "That's different. Your...situations, were different." The words seem empty even to himself.

 

"I know you know that's not true. You're just trying to push me away right now. I know cause it's what I did. Stiles I know  _exactly_ what you're going through right now." Derek said again, drawing even closer, slowly. "And that's why I know you've got to let it go. If you don't you'll just drive yourself crazy."

 

Stiles drew an arm tight around himself, hating that he was making Derek relieve his traumatic past experiences. "It will just stop hurting if I let it go?" He asked weakly.

 

Derek sighed softly, in front of him now, but not touching him still. "No. It will never stop hurting, and I think you know that. But eventually you'll come to understand it as one of those unfortunate twist's of fate, that you really had no control over. But the pain does dull. It doesn't fade completely, but just...settles in a way that blend's in with the rest of you. Becoming a part of you."

 

Stiles laughed bitterly, looking up at Derek. "So I'm going to become like you, Sourwolf? Not sure I'm ready for that."

 

Derek gave a slight grin, finally reaching out and grasping Stiles elbow, and the boy shifted just slightly, his body drawing closer. "Thanks, asshole. No. When you met me I was something else entirely. I was the result of guilt and tragedy without any real source to ease the burden, but that was because I pushed people away, and you can't do that, okay? Actually I'm not going to let you. There are so many people in your life who will be there to help you up the moment you fall down. Lean on them, Stiles. It's what they're there for."

 

The fact that Derek was speaking so bluntly about himself was not lost on Stiles. The man had been emotionally constipated for so long, and Stiles knew that he was opening up lately, and he couldn't stand the thought of not returning the favor. "What about you? You gonna be there for me to lean on?" Stiles had meant to say in in a playful voice, but it came out sounding hesitant, unsure. 

 

Derek smiled softly at him, rubbing his thumb in a circle along Stiles arm. "I already am."

 

He and Derek stood there for a moment, just staring at each other, until Stiles realized how awkward it must have looked to everyone else and forced himself to drag his gaze away. Before Derek could remove his hand from his arm, though, Stiles laid his own over it, to show just how much he appreciated Derek, and then walked back towards his dad with a sigh. John smiled sadly at him, wrapping an arm around his middle and kissing him on his brow. Stiles didn't fuss. Too much. He was a little old to be getting kisses from his dad, after all. 

 

Lydia looked up at him with watery eyes, reaching out to hold his hand and squeeze it. Stiles squeezed back and was about to pull his hand back when Lydia's grip tightened considerably around his. Frowning he looked down at her and paused, his breath catching in his throat. She sat still, very still, her back straight. Her eyes were large and growing more and more clouded by the second, and Stiles knew what that meant. Only a few seconds passed before her mouth stretched wide and she sucked in one sharp inhale, held it for a moment, and then screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just wanted to share a bit with you guys how TRULY difficult for me it is to brainstorm/write a chapter lol I myself am extremely ADHD (feeling Stiles pain completely). And while i know the main plot of the story and maybe a bare minimum of what I want to occur in a chapter, for the in depth part i literally have the usually take all day just to figure out what I want. I dream Sterek, so it's pretty easy from the moment i wake up to start planning. But then I'll find myself thinking of something else and will try to go back, which usually means I've also forgotten a bit of what I had previously been thinking about. So then i get a pen and paper to jot down things. But then notice five minutes in that I've started to scribble my name in thousands of different ways and my paper is basically a mess of doodles (I'm really good at unicorns. only their heads tho). I usually go through about five sheet's of paper like that U_U but honestly. It takes me hours and hours and hours to get just enough bits of information within the weird, redundant, off the wall things that pop into my head. And it's so funny because I will honest to god get so mad at myself lol I'll be all 'alright. I'm sitting down and thinking SERIOUSLY on this chapter!!!' and then five minutes later I realize I'm listening to music and chewing on twizzlers without a care in the world. AHHHHHH!!! And guy's it's so incredibly bad if I'm pacing while thinking on a chapter. Because I have this weird thing I do where I count my steps (OCD as well) and I won't realize I've stopped brainstorming until I'm at like 325 or something and then I just start cussing like a crazy person :'( And I'm starting to think I may go into zones of unawareness cause I'm sitting here eating a tortilla shell and i have no idea where it came from. Who even keeps tortilla shells in their homes :O 
> 
>  
> 
> BUT!! For what it's worth, once i finally do have details of a chapter it's usually fast that I'm actually able to type it out. lol so. There's that at least. Silver lining and all that shit! hurray!


	44. The Guardian

Stiles stood beside Malia and Liam, his face contorted in worry and apprehension. After Lydia's banshee scream had died, to everyone's shock she had began to scream again, but this one was not a omen of death, this one was pure and agonized grief. It had rattled them all, filled them with nervous energy and when Lydia had begun to sob uncontrollably Stiles hadn't been able to keep his eyes dry. He had never seen Lydia look so tortured - not even after Allison. The rest of the pack had shown up in alarming time, and Lydia had not once stopped crying, Parrish rocking her gently in his arms, trying to calm her with whisper's in her ear. Scott and kira kneel'd in front of her, their hands grasping her's tight, trying to anchor her, though nothing either did could calm her down. Stiles glanced over to his dad, who was standing just t the left of them, looking so completely lost, unsure what to do, and Stiles' heart ached for the man. Letting go of the amulet around his neck he had begun to nervously figit with he moved towards his father, coming to stand beside him and letting their arms brush one another. John looked over at his son and even his eyes were watery. 

 

"Is she going to be okay?" The Sheriff asked softly, distraught. 

 

Stiles looked back to Lydia, licking his lips anxiously. "Honestly, I don't know. I've never seen her like this before."

 

"But she screamed. Doesn't that mean--"

 

"Someone's going to die." Derek confirmed, coming to stand beside Stiles, the man's dark brow's furrowed as he watched Lydia.

 

Maybe it had to do with the link, but Stiles could all but feel the electricity that was shooting through Derek's veins, and turning to look at the wolf he noticed that all his hair was standing on end. Stiles glanced down to Derek's hands, finding them clenching and unclenching. "You okay, Derek?"

 

Derek cut a glance over to him before looking back at Lydia. "My wolf is worked up. It doesn't like the fact that she's in so much pain. It's kind of trying to come out."

 

Stiles frowned up at him, confused, and wondered if Derek's wolf was like that with everyone or if it were just he and Lydia in particular. And then why? Feeling the overwhelming urge to comfort him, Stiles lifted his hand and squeezed Derek's shoulder before just letting it rest there. Derek stiffened slightly at first, but then it was like a ripple of something traveled over him, and suddenly he was calm as he hadn't been before. A sigh spilling through his nose and his hands relaxing at his thighs. Stiles frowned once again at the sight but let it go. 

 

"Lydia."

 

Stiles hear's Scott try again for about the tenth time and turns to look at him.

 

"Lydia, hey, hey. It's okay." Scott lift's himself upwards slightly in his crouch, running his hands up and down Lydia's arms in a relaxing motion. "You've got to calm down though, okay? You've got to tell us whatever you heard or felt so we can know what to do."

 

Lydia swallows hard a few times, heavy tear's still running down her face, but she nod's her head shakily and after taking a few gasping breath's tries to calm herself down, and Scott's continuous touch seem's to be helping her some. Parrish pushes her slightly damp hair from her face, leaning forward to place a kiss to her brow and Lydia's blink's hard a few times, her eyes a mess of running mascara. She open's her mouth, struggling to speak a moment before finally finding her voice, which is raw and shaky. "I-It's....one of us." She croaks, her hand tightening on Parrish's. "Scott it's one of us. One of us is going to die."

 

Scott blink's up at her, his face a mask of shock, and her words settle heavy over everyone else, their expression's all similar. "Are you sure?" Scott whispered.

 

Lydia's lips pull tight as she tries to hold back a sob, and she nods her head jerkily. 

 

"Do you-" Scott lick's his lips and swallow's as his own voice break's, his eyes beginning to glow red at the threat of a member of his pack in danger. "Do you know who?"

 

Lydia's quiet a long moment, her eyes haunted, lost. Finally she shakes her head slowly, her tear's now sliding slow against her skin. "I'm not sure." She whisper's. 

 

Scott releases a sharp exhale and lean's back on his feet, releasing Lydia. He looks first at Kira, whose large eyes are even more wide, frightened. And then the Alpha's gaze travel's over everyone behind him, as if he's trying to figure out which one of them it will be. Who's going to die. Stiles feel's a shiver shoot down his spine when their eyes lock, and Scott's jaw clenches painfully tight, as if he's thinking about his best friend dying, and can't deal with the image.

 

"What are we supposed to do?" Malia voices softly, her eyes frantic, afraid. Liam is standing beside her, his hand clasping her's tight, and his eyes appear just as frightened.

 

"I'll tell you what you do," John spoke up then, his voice hard, firm. "Every single one of you is to keep your asses at the loft, you get that? No more patrol's. No more mission's looking for this thing."

 

Everyone is silent a moment, looking between one another, Stiles is finally the one that speak's up, his voice hesitant. "Dad, we can't just-"

 

"No, Stiles!" The Sheriff swings around on him with a hiss, his body tight with tension. "You can and you will, do you understand that?" He let's out a sound of pent up frustration, throwing his hands up. "Did you even hear what she just said? One of you is going to  _die_ , Stiles. Now I swear to god either you stay in that loft or I will take your ass back to the house and make sure you don't leave, you got that? Actually, Parrish, you're on personal leave. Go with them, make sure none of them leave.  _Especially Stiles."_

 

A look comes over Parrish's face, but he doesn't say anything, just nod's silently.

 

"What? No, Dad you can't do this!"

 

"Oh I sure as hell can. I am your father, Stiles! And as long as you are seventeen still, you  _will_ listen to what I say, do you understand me?!" John shout's, moving forward until his chest is all but touching his son's. 

 

Stiles suck's in a deep inhale, his lips twisted in anger. He opens his mouth to shout and refuse the order, but in the end just twist's away with a snarl and start's walking in the opposite direction. 

 

"Where the hell are you going?"

 

"To the loft!" Stiles shouts, glaring at his dad. "Isn't that where I'm supposed to be going?"

 

John's gaze battle's with his son's a while before he turns to Parrish. "Parrish, take him in your car. Someone else can take the jeep back."

 

Parrish sigh's softly and gives a nod, standing, pulling Lydia up with him. "Come on, Stiles."

 

Stiles' nostril's flare in anger and he stands there a moment before finally stomping to Parrish, walking to his patrol car with he and Lydia. He dig's in his pocket and tosses his key's to Derek.

 

"This is for your own good, Stiles!" John call's after them.

 

Stiles doesn't bother to answer him, doesn't even look over his shoulder, just climbs in the back seat and slam's the door shut behind him, glaring straight ahead as the car pull's away.

 

Once it's gone John heave's a deep sigh and run's his hand over his face in a tired gesture before turning to look at Scott. "I meant you as well, son. All of you."

 

Scott gives a small nod and wrap's his arm around Kira's waist, pulling her back to his bike. "We're going, don't worry."

 

John turn's to Derek then, whose standing rigid, his brow furrowed. "Why do I have a feeling you're going to be difficult."

 

Derek uncrosses his arms from around his chest and look's over at John, his face serious. "I'm not going to say that I don't understand you wanting to keep everyone safer. Stiles safe. But you can't tell us to leave innocent people to die and expect us to be okay with it. You're Stiles father, and I respect you enough to at least try and make sure he stay's to the loft, but I'm not going to hide there while this thing is still a danger. So I can't promise that when I'm gone, he'll still be there as well." And with that he turned, walking away. "Liam, Malia, come with me."

 

Malia turns and gives John a small smile before she and Liam follow Derek back to Stiles jeep.

 

 

****************************************

 

 

When Derek and the other's get back to the loft, it's to heated shouting between Stiles, Parrish and Lydia, while Scott and Kira stand to the side, wearing wary expressions. It isn't until Derek voices that John left him in his care, and he intend's to respect the Sheriff's wishes, that Stiles really freak's out. He shout's at Derek a good five minutes, face red with rage, before stomping away and slamming the guest room door behind him. They don't see him the rest of the night.

 

 

****************************************

 

 

The next morning Scott open's the door quickly, saying a thankful prayer when he see's Deaton standing outside with a very unhappy Thor. The dog is tense, spine rigid as it eye's Deaton warily. 

 

"You never said it bites." Deaton says in a rather irked voice, staring at Scott.

 

Scott cringed, looking down at Thor who is now eyeing him, the dog's body still tense but it's ear's having perked forward a bit. "Uh, yeah. Sorry. He seem's to only like Stiles, I'm not sure why."

 

Deaton sigh's before nodding, handing the leash over to Scott. "It's natural. Stiles was the one that rescued him, so he bonded with him immediately. But what he went though was still traumatic, so it's normal for the animal to have trust issues. You will just have to take it slow with him. Nothing too fast or threatening."

 

Scott nod's, his eyes eager as he look's Deaton over. "So?"

 

Deaton gives a wry smile and nod's. "I have everything I need. All I need now is time to do the proper ritual to craft the weapon. I should have it by no later than morning."

 

"Oh, thank God." Scott relaxes visibly with a sigh, smiling down at Thor. "You hear that, boy? That's great news." Thor's ears twitch but otherwise he stays sitting. Scott crouches down and hold's out a palm, face downwards, and after a hesitant moment the dog creep's forward and pushes it's nose up against Scott's palm before pulling back again. It's not much, but Scott will take what he can get. "Thank's for letting us spring him early." Scott tell's Deaton with a smile.

 

Deaton gives a slight shrug. "He's more than likely perfectly healthy. Just need's to get back to his normal weight. There's some food for him down stairs, if you want to help me."

 

"Yeah, of course." Scott moves back a bit, looking over his shoulder to the left. "Derek! We've gotta grab something from the car. Is it okay if we let him in?"

 

After a few moment's Derek's approaching the door with a deep frown, his eyes locked on the dog. Thor's ear's twitch, and he tilts his head back slightly, scenting the air, and then suddenly he's brushing past Scott and pushing against Derek's leg's with a whine. Derek hold's his hands up and stare's down at the dog like he has no idea what to do.

 

Scott stares with his jaw open. "What? Dude how come he goes straight to you but will hardly let any of the rest of us touch him?"

 

"I don't know." Derek mutter's before hesitantly reaching down, Thor stretches until his head is butting Derek's hand, and Derek arches a brow, but bends slightly to fully pet the animal.

 

Deaton tilt's his head slightly, studying them. "That is unusual. Perhaps it has something to do with the link between Stiles and you."

 

Derek gives a slight nod. "Maybe."

 

"Well, I'm going to go help Deaton before I get jealous over here." Scott says with a grin, following Deaton down the hall. "I'll be back!"

 

Derek nod's absently, staring down at the large white dog. Like, very large. In his wolf form he'd only be a bit bigger. "At least you're not some small yappy thing." Derek mutters, running his hand through Thor's fur, who seem's to be enjoying it thoroughly. Scott had asked him if they could bring the dog over, hoping that it would get Stiles back on their good side, and honestly, Derek was all for it. Every since last night the boy had done nothing but stay locked up in the guest room, the few times he did come out just glaring at everyone. It wasn't like Derek didn't understand his frustration, because he did, but it wasn't like they had been the one's to put him on house arrest. 

 

A door opened somewhere back then, and suddenly Thor was pushing abruptly past Derek, so fast and hard that Derek stumbled a bit, and the next thing he know's he hear's Stiles let out a little yelp of surprise, and turn's to see Thor has all but tackled Stiles to the ground, slobbering all over his face.

 

Stiles wiggle's in confused surprise a moment before he realizes what's happening and then he's laughing, throwing his arm's around the large dog and burying his face in it's neck. Derek feel's a pang in his chest and can't help but wonder how if would feel for Stiles to do that while he was in his wolf form. 

 

"Oh my god, dude what the hell are you doing here?!" Stiles cries happily, scooting up until he's sitting and smiling at Thor, who is staring at him, panting with his tongue hanging out to the side, and it's such a ridiculous look that Stiles can't help but laugh, scratching behind one of the dog's large ear's.

 

"Deaton brought him over." Derek moves forward to stand beside them, watching the way Stiles eyes light up as he run's his hands through the dog's fur.

 

Derek's words seem to hit him then and his gaze jerk's up to Derek's. "Deaton's back?"

 

Derek nod's as Stiles pushes to a stand, looking around him, his hand laying on Thor's head as the dog all but jostle's his body for attention. "Where is he?"

 

"He and Scott went downstairs to get the dog's stuff. They should be up in a minute."

 

Almost as if on demand the Druid and Alpha walk back through the door, Scott carrying two large bag's of dog food and Deaton a paper bag with no doubt more dog items in it. Scott's eyes go wide when he see's that Stiles is out of the room, and he drops the dogfood down carefully.

 

"Hey, man."

 

Stiles nod's, looking a bit sheepish, as if he realizes how ridiculous he has been. "Hey. So...Deaton's back."

 

Said Druid gives a slight nod, sitting the bag down and turning to face Stiles. "I've already told Scott, but the weapon should be ready by the morning at the latest."

 

Stiles closes his eyes and a sigh of relief slips past his lips. "Thank god." They would finally be able to fight the Slaugh. No one else needed to get hurt. 

 

"Well, if you all don't mind I had better go get started, then."

 

Stiles nodded eagerly as the Druid shut the loft door behind him, grinning at Scott. "Dude, this is so awesome."

 

"I know." Scott say's with a laugh, pulling a large plastic dog bowl out of the bag and cutting open one of the bag's of dog food with a claw, scooping out some and stretching to sit the bowl near Thor. The dog look's down at the food a minute but then turn's away, sitting with it's back to Scott and it's rib cage against Stile's leg. Scott's expression drops. "Dude...I think he just dismissed me."

 

Derek can't help the amused grin that catch's his lips. "I'm pretty sure he did."

 

Stiles scowl's at them. "Maybe he's just not hungry." He mumbles before moving forward a bit to grab the bowl and sit it next to Thor. He grab's a few kibbles and hold's them out in his hand. "You now hungry, dude?"

 

Thor turns his head, sniffing the air before leaning forward and licking the food from Stiles hand, and then after a few crunches and swallows the dog turn's slightly and start's eating from the bowl. 

 

Derek's eyebrow's shoot to his hair line before he burst's out laughing. Scott sit's there, a bewildered and hurt look on his face. "Man....that's not cool. Why doesn't he like me?"

 

"I don't think it's that." Derek says, sobering slightly as he watch's the dog. "I think he consider's Stiles his Alpha. Which is why he wouldn't touch the food when you offered it. He was waiting for permission from Stiles."

 

Stiles' eyes widen slightly and he look's between Scott and Derek, then down at the dog. "What? That's not cool, though. I don't want him to feel like he's got to get doggy permission from me before he can do something. Especially eat. That's messed up, man."

 

Derek shake's his head with a soft smile. "Don't worry, you're not being cruel to him in any way. It's his natural instincts. If anything it's good for him. Make's him feel part of a pack. It will help his recovery."

 

Stiles look's down at Thor, reaching out and running his hand on his fur. "Well I guess that's okay, then." Thor's tail wag's and he lift's his head to lick at Stiles wrist a moment before returning to his food. Stiles look's up at Derek, his gaze hesitant. "You sure you don't mind him staying here?"

 

Derek shakes his head instantly. "No. It's fine." In fact, after seeing how well Stiles react's to the dog, it's more than fine. Derek is glad to have the dog. 

 

Stiles smiles slowly and pet's Thor again before standing. He look's around a bit, spotting Malia and Liam close together on the couch. "Where is Lydia?"

 

Derek's gaze turn's slightly sad. "She's in one of the room's with Parrish. She really hasn't come out much since last night. She's still upset."

 

Stiles run's his hands over his face, guilt settling heavy in him. "Shit. I'm such an idiot." Sighing he turn's and head's back down the hall, stopping before the other guest room and knocking on the door. Parrish's voice on the other side tell's him to come in, and Stiles push's the door open slowly, sticking his head in first. Parrish is sitting on the bed over Lydia, who is laying down on her side, her eyes staring at the wall. Stiles feel's his breath catch in his throat at how worn out and tired she looks, the dark circles under her eyes. "Has she slept at all?"

 

Parrish shake's his head slowly, his face a mask of concern. "She can't. Say's she has bad dream's when she tries."

 

Stiles feel's a bit of his heart break at that, because he know's what that feel's like. Sighing he moves forward to sit at the other side of the bed, and frown's when he see's a white blur race past his leg's. He almost topples over but Derek's strong hands steady him, and he watches with slight surprise as Thor jumps up on the bed, hovering over Lydia a bit, who is looking up at the dog with wide eyes. Parrish jumps to a stand, looking at Derek and Stiles questionably. Stiles just shrug's. Thor lean's forward and sniff's Lydia a moment before releasing a deep whine and settling himself near her leg's, his head resting on her calf's. Lydia blink's a moment before reaching out a hand and petting the dog, and Stiles watches as Thor shut's his eyes in bliss.

 

"Are you sure he just doesn't like me?" Scott pout's beside Stiles and Derek. "Maybe it's because I'm an Alpha?"

 

Stiles shake's his head with a shrug. "Whatever." He say's simply before moving to sit at the other side of the bed. Lydia turn's to look at him with a small smile. "Hey there."

 

Lydia reach's out and grasp's his hand tightly, her jaw trembling a bit as she does so. "Hey."

 

"You should really try to sleep."

 

Lydia sniffle's a bit, but nod's her head. "I know. I just - I don't want to dream anymore."

 

Stiles nod's in understand, lifting his leg's up to lay slightly turned towards her. "I know. Do you want to talk about them? Your dream's I mean? I never really wanted to, but I found out if I did it really does make you feel better."

 

Lydia is quiet a moment before swallowing hard. "It's just...I don't really see anything. It's just black. But I can  _feel_  , and it feel's horrible. The most horrible thing I have ever felt." Her chin quiver's again, and a tear roll's down her eyes. "It's the feeling of one of you dying. And I don't know who it is and it hurt's so much."

 

Parrish look's like he's in pain just watching Lydia, and reaches out to brush the tear from her face.

 

"But I'm so tired." Lydia whisper's with a whine, squeezing Stiles hand slightly. Do you think you guys could stay here, just until I fall asleep? All of you?" 

 

Stiles nod's immediately, and look's up at Scott and Derek. They both give silent nod's and move forward, Scott sitting on the bed near Parrish and Derek coming to sit beside Stiles.

 

Lydia smiles faintly, blinking through tears. "Thank you." She lick's dry lips and draw's Stiles hand closer to her chest, looking up at him. "This is going to sound so stupid, but do you think you can tell me a story? My grandmother used to do it all the time when I was little and it always made me feel so much better."

 

Stiles smiles softly. "Sure. My mom used to tell me stories too. She was an amazing story teller. I have a favorite. Do you want me to tell you that one?"

 

Lydia nod's, settling herself to get more comfortable and closing her eyes. 

 

Stiles briefly glances up at everyone, feeling a bit shy. He was about to divulge in something that meant a lot to him, and he was automatically hesitant. Everyone just looked at him with open, trusting eyes, though, and realizing it was foolish to be so defensive he scoot's further against the pillow's and lean's more against his side, propping his head up on his hand. "My mom used to always tell me that even the weakest man can become strong if he just believes. She also said that in the old days the god's liked to test people, not for their own enjoyment, but more so as a way to make people understand that if they just believe and keep going they can transform themselves into something amazing. She used to tell me this story of a poor beggar man, who lived in this tiny cave in the woods. Every morning he would walk into the village, going through the wood's and down the long road. He was nothing but skin and bones, and would wobble more than walk, and children in the village used to call him Skeleton Man, but he didn't care, because he was happy, even though he had nothing. He was also good. If he even saw anything - animal or man - in need of help then he wouldn't hesitate to offer it. If he saw animal's in the forest caught in poacher traps, he would set them free, even when the men in the village would beat him for it. When he'd see the women and peasants out in the field's cutting at the barley with their sickle's he would stop and take the tool from their hands, working in the hot sun for hours so they could rest, even when his body was so weak and hungry. When he went into the village he would stand and beg for food or coin, and even though he was kind the people would always spit at him, call him names and drive him away. But still the beggar didn't hate them or even blame them. And then one day when he was walking the road into the village he saw smoke billow's and heard screaming. A small army had invaded the village, and they were setting the homes on fire and capturing some of the villagers, and killing the rest. The beggar immediately thought about all of the people in the field's that he had stood beside out in the hot sun, and the children in the village who ran in circles around him, laughing. He even thought about the men and women who spit at him and cursed him; and he wanted to save them. So he ran to the village, even though he knew nothing about fighting or how to defend himself. He was able to gather a small group of men, women and children and hide them from the men. As he was running from house to house, trying to save as many people as possible, he heard a woman screaming. He found one of the men attacking a man, woman and child in their home. The beggar recognized the little girl from one that would always dance around his feet with a hand full of dandelions, which she usually always ended up giving to him before running away. The woman was a worker from the fields, and he would always take her sickle, cutting the barley for her so she could rest, even though she never said thank you after. And he even recognized the man. It was one of the cruelest of all those in the village that belittled him. The man had spit on and hit the beggar various times in his life. But standing there, watching the way the soldier struck the little girl, and went after the woman next, he knew he couldn't stand there and do nothing. So he did what he did best. He helped them. The beggar man ran at the soldier, screaming louder than he had ever screamed before, and even though he was nothing but skin and bones - a Skeleton Man - the soldier was so surprised that he fell under the beggar man's attack, even as weak as it was. The soldier was strong though. Very strong, and he fought with the beggar, rolling over until he was pinned underneath him. The soldier started hitting the beggar, over and over again, until the beggar was laying still, not moving. While they were fighting, the husband had grabbed the sword that the soldier had dropped, and the soldier had noticed it and was rising to his feet again. The beggar man knew that even though the villager had the sword, the soldier was a better fighter, and would be able to take it from the man easily, and then he would kill the man and his family. So using the last bit of strength he had, the beggar man grabbed the soldier, holding him tight, and screamed for the villager to attack. And he did. He shoved the sword deep into the soldier's back, so deep that it went through his stomach, and down into the beggar man's, piercing him as well. The two of them laid there, their bloods joining to become one, and the villager looked down in horror at what he had done. Before the beggar man let death take him though, he smiled, actually smiled, and told the man that it was okay. That he forgave him. Because he had been there, he saved the family, and they were able to get to safety. And even though the beggar man knew he was going to die because of it, he didn't care. He had protected someone, and that's all he had ever wanted in life."

 

Stiles drew off a moment, smiling softly when a tear fell from Lydia's eye. He reached forward and brushed it away, hearing Thor whine at his feet. He leaned forward more, his face closer to Lydia's. "But then something amazing happened. The god's had been watching the beggar man all his life, and they had seen how honest and pure he was, and they felt that such goodness deserved a reward. So when he died, and his spirit went to the other world, the god's were there to meet him. They gave a great feast in his honor, and a beautiful goddess asked the beggar if he would stand by her side, protecting those who could not protect themselves. The beggar was honored and eagerly agreed. Just as the goddess was about to gift him with god hood, though, he paused. The beggar suddenly felt like his time on the earth was not yet over. That there were still many things he had to learn, about himself and other's. The Slavic people believed in reincarnation, and the beggar realized that he was not ready yet. The goddess just smiled softly at him and told him that she understood. She told him she would send his soul down to be born anew, but also asked if she could in return keep a small part of him with her. She explained that at that moment, the man he was then was someone who could still help a great deal of people, and that she could take a piece of his soul, in a way creating a replica of him. The beggar knew if there way a way he could help others he would always do it, so agreed. And the goddess reached into his body, and plucked out a golden glowing orb, and the orb transformed, until a man that looked exactly like him was standing before the beggar. The goddess promised that they would save many together, and then she sent his soul down to be born again." Stiles inhaled deeply, his voice beginning to grow a little horse. He drew back against the pillows with a small, fond smile. "The story actually has three parts. The man was reborn twice again, each time another piece of his soul replicated for some heroic deed he had done, and in the end his god replica's became a myth among the people, they called him - or them, rather, the three immortal sleeping warriors. My mother used to tell me that whenever a man of pure intentions called on the warriors, they would appear to help him. I used to get her to tell me the story almost every night. And she never got tired of it either." He laughed softly, looking down at Lydia, who was smiling and seemed way more herself now.

 

"It's beautiful. Will you tell me the rest of the story one day?"

 

"Of course. I'm sure my mom would be happy that I was passing down the lore." Stiles leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead gently. "Now try to get some sleep, okay?"

 

Lydia sniffled again, but nodded. Parrish smiled thankfully up at Stiles and laid beside Lydia, curling himself around her.Stiles looked up to see Scott watching him with a small smile. He knew that Stiles didn't talk much about his mom because it was too painful at times, but if it made Lydia feel better, he didn't mind much. He turned to look at Derek then, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the wolf watching him with an unblinking gaze, his eyes dark with emotion. Stiles felt something powerful leaking through the link between them something breath taking and consuming, and he trembled from it, looking away. 

 

They sat there with her until she fell asleep.

 

****************************************************************************

 

 

Stiles sat in the large window of Derek's loft downstairs much later that night, staring out at the night. Scott, Liam and Malia were in the living room, the TV on and playing softly. It was Scott's turn for watch, and he had at least two more hours to go and his eyes were already heavy. Liam and Malia had fallen asleep hours ago, curled up together on the couch, and the rest of the group were asleep as well. Well, maybe besides Derek. Derek seemed to never sleep. Which really bothered Stiles. Sighing he leaned his head back to rest against the wall, sitting up in the cubby of the window. Thor whined softly at his feet and Stiles smiled down at the dog, reaching out and laying a hand against his cheek, scratching behind his ear a moment. He had been working on the tree ash branches since yesterday, trying to get them sharp enough to resemble a crude stake. And that shit was harder than it looked, especially when all you had working for you was a slightly dull pocket knife. Stiles didn't mind though, it kept him preoccupied. 

 

He had caved and ended up talking to his dad earlier, hating the thought that the man may have been worried. John had sighed into the line, just glad to hear his son's voice again. They had talked for about thirty minutes before his dad had to get back to work. Hanging up had been hard. Stiles was scared. Even though it really made no different, he somehow felt that if he were out on the street's at least, that his dad would be safer. But honestly that made no sense. If the Slaugh really wanted him then it could just come to the loft. Stiles didn't need to be out there for that. Sighing Stiles stared down at his third and final piece of wood. It was almost finished. Just a little more work and it would be sharp enough. The irony that the only way to purify a dark faerie was to stab it with sacred wood was not really lost on him, but that kind of stuff was bonker's to him anyways. He had learned long ago not to question it and just go along with everything. 

 

After yesterday at the playground, curing Ryan had been the furthest thing from his mind. It was...an atrocity what he had done. Children were innocent. They didn't deserve something so horrific. Even now thinking about it Stiles had to shut his eyes and calm himself so he didn't get too worked up. 

 

After a while, though, he had realized that no matter what he couldn't just give up on the idea of erasing the darkness inside of Ryan. Stiles tried to imagine Ryan's life before Beacon Hills more often than he most likely should. He knew Ryan had said he had had a bad childhood, but he hadn't been  _evil_ at least. Stiles just felt like coming to Beacon Hills had changed him. Created this thing that he was, and somehow, as stupid as it was, he felt a bit responsible. His town had done this. The damn town was a curse in itself. And once this thing with Ryan was over, the pack needed to look into a way to cure the town itself. However hell they could do that. 

 

Staring down at the wood he pushed his knife through, tugging hard each time it got caught. His arms were aching from carving so much, and his wrist hurt like a bitch, but it wasn't anything he couldn't live with. After a few more minutes Stiles laid down the knife and looked at the wooden stake with a grin. It was done. Picking up his ratted messenger bag he dropped it in with the other two. Feeling the three of them beneath his finger tips before setting the bag back down with a sigh. 

 

He still hadn't told anyone what the weapon's were really for. He was too scared to. He knew that no one else would care about 'curing' Ryan. And it's not like he could blame them. Stiles wasn't even sure why he cared anymore. In the end he was pretty sure whatever fate Argent decided for Ryan would not be good. Sometimes Stiles wondered if killing the Slaugh would be a mercy compared to what would happen to him otherwise.

 

Scrubbing a hand over his tired face Stiles laid his forehead against the cold glass of the window and looked down at the street below. It was dark out, close to two in the morning. There were no cars on the road, but then again there usually weren't where Derek lived. Seriously. The guy had to find a better neighborhood, though. Smiling softly to himself Stiles closed his eyes. He sat there a few minutes peacefully, beginning to feel the first touch of sleep take hold of him, and sank eagerly into it. 

 

Suddenly, though, the fine hair one the back of his neck was standing on end, and a chill was shooting down his spine. Stiles eyes shot open immediately, and he drew straight, jerking his gaze around, his heart pounding. The room was dark, quiet except for the sound of the TV. At the floor, though Thor stood suddenly, his fur on end and a low growl rumbling through his body. Stiles laid a hand to his rigid back, whispering softly to him, and it calmed him down slightly. Standing, Stiles looked around the room, searching every shadow and corner, but could see nothing. He was beginning to feel like he was losing his mind, when suddenly he felt his gaze being drawn behind him, and out the window the the street below, and his breath caught in his throat.

 

Ryan was out there. Standing on the street, looking directly up to the window. 

 

A cold sweat immediately rushed over Stiles, and he stumbled backwards, though not so far that he couldn't see Ryan. He jerked his mouth open, about to scream out and alert the other's, but something stopped him then, something at the back of his mind that whispered 'this is the perfect time'. Looking over his shoulder Stiles saw that Scott was now asleep, just like Malia and Liam. He glanced up at the ceiling, licking dry lips. If Derek was awake he would have come down, right? Stiles' heart was beating like crazy. The wolf would have noticed that. Trying to calm himself Stiles looked back through the window, finding Ryan still below. He stood there a moment, his thoughts chaotic. In the end, his mind was made up. He slung the messenger bag over his shoulder, and as quietly as he was able made his way through the living room and to the front door of the loft. He paused as his hand touched the knob, looking behind him, standing quiet and listening. And then, after a moment longer, he pulled the door open and stepped out, shutting the door behind him to a softly whining Thor.

 

 

 

 

 

[](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/akita_zpsmknkzsiu.jpg.html)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so my roommate is pretty....mischievous. And this is what happen's when I leave my computer up while writing a chapter and head to grab some chow.
> 
> "Stiles rock hard erection shot forth like a hurricane and pierced Derek through the heart figuratively and literally. As he fell to the ground all he could think of, was how happy he was to have Stiles inside him again. He felt warm and his pant felt... wet. Derek came so hard, his eyes literally shot out of his head like a cartoon, but Stiles, always the hero, caught them. With a smile, he held his eyes in the palm of his hands and chuckled the last words Derek would ever know: "Here's looking at you kid..."
> 
>  
> 
> LMAO he's such a doucheface.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, the myth of the Three Sleeping Warriors is a real Slavic myth. There's not much known other than it's three immortal warriors that awaken whenever a person of pure intentions seek's them out, but i thought it would be fun to broaden that legend with my own take of it :P This chapter is named from the first immortal warrior. I will name 2 other chapters for the other two. Most likely in the next part of the series, seeing as this one only has about 2 chapters left!!! :O lol ohmy


	45. Running Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles must deal with the aftermath of his actions

Stiles really wasn't sure what he had expected. It wasn't like he thought he was going to down to the street and have a civil conversation with Ryan, convince him to turn himself over to the Argent's. He sure as hell hadn't expected the guy to just stand there and let Stiles stab him with three wooden ash stakes cause they 'may purify him of his darkness'. Yet still, for some reason when Ryan appeared in front of him the second his converse hit the pavement, his face twisted and distorted and dug his claws into his body, Stiles was somehow-  _somehow -_ still surprised. Before Stiles could even think to defend himself, Ryan burst apart in a swirl of black, and suddenly all Stiles could feel was darkness as he fell headfirst. And then there was nothing.

 

*****************************************

 

 

He woke up and rolled immediately to the side, vomiting. His body felt jarred. Disoriented. Like he had been ripped apart and put back together all in one instant. It was horrible and overwhelming, and after Stiles had emptied his stomach he just lay there, vaguely aware that his back was touching cold, wet ground. 

 

"I've never tried taking someone with me before when I dissipate. Honestly I thought it would kill you. I guess you're as strong as I thought, though."

 

Stiles groans when he hears the voice, and even though his body feels heavy - like dead weight - he forces himself to roll over and push upwards with shaking arms, blinking through the darkness and trying to get a baring of where he is. He see's nothing but tree's, and imagines he must be in the preserve, and that makes him laugh, shaking his head weakly. "Dude. The one place you decide to take me, and it's the preserve? Seriously? If you were trying to keep my friend's from finding me you're not doing a very good job so far." He hear's a hiss of anger somewhere behind him and then claw's are digging into his arms, wrenching him upwards with painful intensity and Stiles' breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding in fright when he see's Ryan standing in front of him, fully formed as the Slaugh. He resembles even more something from a nightmare and Stiles can't help but turn his head away with a cringe, trying to get those razor sharp teeth as far away from his face as possible.

 

"Because of  _you_ I'm forced to stay out here, hiding in caves like some wild animal!"

 

Stiles feel's anger rush over him at the words and faces the monster again, his eyes on fire. "You're  _forced_ to hide out in caves because you killed your exchange family and had been keeping their corpses in your basement! Because you've killed and infected innocent people -  _a child_." Stiles' voice choke's, his expression agonized at the memory of the dead little girl, and the mindless boy, struggling against his father's hold, so blood thirsty. "You are a monster and you don't even deserve a cave!"

 

The Slaugh shriek's out in anger, pulling Stiles dangerously closer to it's wide open mouth, and he can't help but whimper, shutting his eyes tight before he's thrown down hard against the ground. For a moment everything goes topsy-turvy, and Stiles groans, feeling like he is going to throw up again. He shoves his fist against his mouth and wait's for the world to stop spinning, while there is silence behind him. He know's he's not lucky enough for the Slaugh to have just left him there though, and after a few moment's he turns around and finds Ryan standing there again, in his human form, though his eyes are still blood colored and a sort of dark energy still flow's around him. Stiles let's out a sound of disgust, glaring up at him. "If you think looking like that is going to make me weak, you've got another thing coming." He glares at the boy, hatred radiating from him. "If you're going to kill me just do it already!"

 

Ryan scoff's down at him, his lip twisting. "Why would I kill you when you're the best food source I have, Stiles?"

 

Stiles blink's up at him, horror swelling in his belly. "What?"

 

Ryan gives a sharp fanged grin and crouches down in front of him, and as Stiles tries to scoot backwards one of the other boy's long clawed hands shot out and dig into his ankle, jerking him forward until he's all but laying under Ryan's spread leg's. 

 

Stiles cries out in pain, feeling blood immediately begin to flow from the wounds.

 

"You know, I always knew it would be you." Ryan's words are so confusing and his voice so much like the boy he had thought he knew that Stiles still's, his eyes widening as he look's up. "I always knew you would be the one to find out about me. You're just so smart. So strong. I was never lying all those times I said I admired you. I did. I still do."

 

"Yet you still want to eat my soul basically." Stiles found himself hissing out sarcastically.

 

Ryan smiles, though it no longer hold's it's old charm when his mouth is filled with row's of sharp teeth. "Tell me, if I said I would stop feeding on other's if you stayed with me - let me feed off of you, would you do it?"

 

Stiles still's his breath caught in his throat. He looks up at Ryan with wide eyes, searching his face in disbelief. "You're serious." He finally gasp's out.

 

Ryan reaches out a hand, and Stiles finches when sharp claws touch his cheek. He expect's them to pierce his skin, but instead they graze against his flesh, moving lazily downwards past his chin and slowly over his neck, and Stiles shivers in disgust. "You know, when I first realized I was the one that had killed Elizabeth, I really did feel remorse. I met her the first day I arrived in Beacon Hills. She was nice. Not the annoying overly nice of someone who is trying to hard, or fake, but genuinely nice. She showed me around a bit, signed me up for this program that would help me fit in more here, she even stayed for dinner the first night. Not once did she look at me with disgust or pity. She was just...normal. When I found out what I was, I felt so guilty that I had killed her. But I also knew that I couldn't stop. It was impossible to stop. So I told myself I would look for bad people. People that were cruel to other's. Belittled them. So I started to target school bullies, thinking that if I had to kill someone, at least I would be doing everyone else a favor."

 

Stiles sneered up at Ryan. "So you see some teenager make fun of someone or push someone against a locker and think that's good enough reason to kill them?"

 

"Lesser of two evils, as they say." Ryan's grin turned more wicked as he stared down at him. "And then, I realized that I didn't even  _have_ to kill them. I could just feed off of them slowly so I wouldn't draw as much attention to myself. And that way it lasted longer for me. When I first infected someone, I wasn't even aware that I had done it. It was just this sort of...instinctual thing that happened automatically." Ryan closed his eyes, taking in a deep inhale. "And it felt so good. It was like some of the weigh in my chest had lifted, and I felt freer than I ever had before. I actually felt alive. Once I had started I couldn't stop. I couldn't get enough. For ever soul that I fed off of, I relinquished a little more of my darkness. I felt... _right_ inside. More right than I ever had my entire life. I felt like a normal person." Ryan's face, which had been a mask of bliss, began to change then, grow dark and evil, and the boy was standing up over Stiles suddenly, glaring down at him. "But then that changed too. After a feeding I would feel that ache again. That need. I was never satisfied for long, and would need more a lot quicker. I realized that I didn't have the luxury to be selective anymore, and just started feeding freely on whoever I pleased." A perverse smile caught Ryan's lips then, and a tremor caught his body. "But the boy? The boy lasted far longer than any of the other's. Aside from you, of course."

 

Hearing Ryan talk so proudly of feeding from a child Stiles felt rage fill him, and with a cry shot forward, tackling Ryan to the ground. He landed a top him and started hitting him instantly, not wanting to lose any opening. He got in about three good punches before suddenly Ryan was flipping him over, and Stiles' mouth opened on a choked cry as Ryan's clawed hand wrapped around his neck, squeezing tight. He reached out, grabbing onto Ryan's wrist and trying to rip it away, but Ryan lifted himself to his knee's and dropped the top half of his weight into his hands, the added pressure causing his grip to tighten even more and Stiles eyes bulged in his socket's as his gaze beginning to grow hazy. "Don't you understand!" Ryan was bent down close to his face, so close that Stiles could feel his breath against his skin. "If you would just agree to stay with me, to leave this place with me, then I wouldn't have to feed from anyone else! You're so powerful, Stiles. I know that if i kept you I'd have all the substance I needed!"

 

Stiles mouth opened, trying and failing to draw in air. He knew that he was going to pass out if he didn't do something soon. Releasing one of his hands he shakily trailed it down his side, where his messenger bag still sat, hanging on his chest. 

 

"Even if I infected you, I could just keep you locked away. I wouldn't let you hurt anyone. You're strong, you wouldn't be like the other's. You' wouldn't die, i just know it!"

 

Stiles fingers finally found their way into the bag, reaching downwards and closing over one of the wooden stakes. His vision was darkening around the edge's now, and he knew that at any moment he would pass out. Before it was too late he jerked his hand out of his back, and with a hard swing, stabbed Ryan in the back. Ryan released a shrill cry and immediately pulled away, and Stiles sucked in a deep gasp, his throat burning as he did so. He crawled backwards with wide eyes, reaching in the bag again. He felt familiar soft leather and gasped, forgetting his bracelet had been in there. Jerking it out he quickly slid it into place and stumbled to his feet, taking out another stake, holding it tightly as he watched Ryan.

 

The boys eyes were angry, red, and glaring. He twisted his body, trying to reach behind him and pull out the stake, and after a moment he did. Ryan stared at the piece of wood covered in black blood and dropped it to the ground, turning viscous eyes up at Stiles. 

 

Stiles watched as his entire form changed once again, his limbs growling longer and protruding; bony. His skin darkening to a nearly charred looking black and his hair vanishing from his skeletal like head, lip-less mouth stretching wide as he shrieked at Stiles. Stiles would be lying if he said he hadn't clenched with fear and for a moment lost all sense of bravery. 

 

"You think you can kill me with this little piece of wood?" The Slaugh laughed evilly, advancing on Stiles fast, it's claw's outstretched. 

 

Stiles forced himself to hold his ground, trusting the bracelet, but still flinched when the Slaugh finally came close enough to activate the force field. The creature went flying backwards with a grunt, and Stiles didn't allow himself to hesitate anymore. He rushed forward, other stake tight in his hand, and stabbed the creature in the chest while it was still on the ground. The Slaugh screamed again, a claw swiping out and connecting with Stiles chest, shredding his shirt and causing blood to immediately seep from four long wounds. Stiles could deal with that. What he couldn't deal with was the fact that his messenger bag had been ripped, and was now lying on the ground, the last stake still in it. Before he had time to even move though, the Slaugh was on him again. 

 

Stiles cried out as his back hit the ground hard, and then froze with a gasp as sharp fang's snapped directly in front of his face. "Should have fucked you when I had the chance!" The creature hissed hotly into his face, and Stiles turned his head with a whimper, realizing that neither of the two stakes had worked on Ryan, and he would most likely not be able to get his hand on the third. Stiles had no idea what to do. He knew that the bracelet wouldn't work again until at least ten minutes later, and he had no weapon on hand to defend himself with anymore. He realized suddenly, and very clearly, that it had been a horrible idea to face the Slaugh alone. To be so stupid as to think that he could heal Ryan. This was what Ryan  _was_. There was nothing to cure. 

 

"I'll never go with you." Stiles spit out, glaring upwards. "So you might as well just kill me."

 

The Slaugh leaned even closer, and Stiles cringed when a drop of drool fell across his cheek. "I'll do it, you know. Suck out every bit of that brightness inside of you. Feed off of all that power. I'm so hungry for it, Stiles. Hungry for another taste."

 

Stiles whimpered as a sticky, stinking black tongue traced along his cheek, and then the next thing he knew he was being flipped over and his face was in the dirt. Stiles gasped as his shirt was ripped from his body, and he felt clawed hands shredding the material of his jeans. He cried out and immediately tried to scoot away, but the Slaugh clawed into his hips and jerked him backwards, hissing into his neck. "No no no no no." Stiles hadn't even been aware that he was screaming out the words until the creature was laughing over him, it's too large twisted hand shoving his head against the dirt. Stiles cried out as he felt a claw rip away the last clinging material of his pants until he was in nothing but his boxers, and he felt a sharp claw run along them, heard the sound of cloth tearing and the tug from the waist band of the things. Stiles struggled, kicking and digging his nails into the dirt, trying to dislodge the disgusting mass at his back, which made the Slaugh only bare down on him harder, stilling him, and Stiles gasped when he felt something hard press against him. It was like something in his mind just - went blank. He grew still. Stiller than he had ever been in his life. At his back the Slaugh stilled as well, surprised, and then grinning wickedly, thinking that it had won, that it had broke Stiles. Stiles felt like he were floating within his own body, his breathing hitched, caught somewhere in his throat as some sense of survival buried deep rose to surface, and suddenly everything felt... _too much_. A overwhelming surge of  _something_ erupted inside of him, rushing over every inch of his body and leaving him practically vibrating. It was painful and pleasurable. Chaotic and calming. Unhinged and grounded, and Stiles found himself screaming under the weight of it all, out of his mind. 

 

Over him the Slaugh's red eyes widened suddenly, rolling back in it's head as if overcome with sensation, and then suddenly white light was flashing against the dark of the forest and the Slaugh was jolted harshly off of Stiles, as if electrocuted. And then as quickly as the anomaly had happened, Stiles was himself again. Stiles sucked in a great gulp of air when he could breath again, rolling over to his back, coughing harshly. He scrambled to his feet, feeling slightly uncoordinated, his limbs heavy.

 

The Slaugh was withering on the ground, it's shriek filling the night. Stiles turned away from it, looking down at the ground with a choked cry, searching almost madly. He finally found what he had been looking for and grabbed his cell phone, the next instant taking off into a hard run. He put every bit of borrowed werewolf speed he had into his escape, dodging through tree's as best as he could, though branches still pulled at his skin, cutting into him, but Stiles was pumped with adrenaline, and could not feel their sting at all. He did not stop running until he stumbled onto the road, and even then his feet continued to hit the pavement as he held up his phone and with shaking hands used his speed dial to call his father. 

 

"Stiles?!" John's panicked voice immediately shouted in his ear. "Where are you?! For the love of god tell me you're alright!"

 

Stiles couldn't help himself, he choked back a sob at the sound of his dad's voice. "Dad..."

 

"Oh god." John's voice broke then, and Stiles could hear him scrambling on the line, and people shouting in the background. " _Where are you?!_ "

 

"I'm on the main road to the preserve heading back into town. Please hurry up I just managed to get away but I don't know how long I have." He managed to gasp out through running.

 

"Just stay where you are! Can you find anywhere to hide?!"

 

The sound of a door slamming and the lift of Derek's loft sounded in Stiles ear. "I can't." He said in a raw voice. "Dad I don't want to - I can't....just please hurry." There was no way he could stop running. His need for escape was still so strong.

 

"Just stay on the line, okay? Here I'm giving the line to Scott so he can talk while I drive. Just wait he's - -  _Stiles_?!"

 

Stiles shut his eyes very briefly when he heard Scott voice. "I'm so fucking stupid." Stiles cried, the wind drying the tear's on his face. "God I'm so stupid. Why am I so stupid, Scott?"

 

"You're not stupid Stiles." Stiles clearly heard Derek bellow out the exact opposite and couldn't help but smile weakly. " _Shut up Derek you're not helping_! ...Stiles are you okay? Please say you're okay, man."

 

Stiles clenched his jaw painfully, unable to say anything without feeling like he would break down. 

 

"Oh god. Okay. It's okay. Just calm down we're going to be there soon, okay? Where is Ryan? Are you still in danger?"

 

"I don't know. I managed to escape but I don't know where he is now. Just please hurry up before he comes back, okay?"

 

"We will I promise, just hold on, man."

 

About fifteen minutes later Stiles saw bright headlights in the distance, and felt his heart skip a beat and his stomach clench in anticipation. He did not stop running though. Not yet. He had to be sure. It wasn't until the cruiser had skidded to a stop behind him that he finally allowed his feet to stumble to a stop, lowering the phone from his ear and turning, his chest rising and falling in deep motions as he sucked in air.

 

The doors of the vehicle were opened immediately and his dad, Derek, and Scott jumped out, turning to run to him. They all stumbled to a stop though, their eyes shooting wide and taking in the sight of Stiles as he stood there, only in his fucking ridiculous Star War's boxers, his body a angry mass of wounds and his eyes wide, frantic. His dad let lose a choked sound before rushing to him, jerking him in his arms. Stiles was still to shocked and pumped up to do anything more than just stand there, his arms hanging at his side, eyes darting around the wood's.

 

"We need to get him to my mom. Now." Scott hissed, and John nodded, dragging a slightly stumbling Stiles to sit in the backseat of the cruiser. Stiles fell back against the seat, his body beginning to tremble, and Scott was beside him in an instant, pulling him tight against his body.

 

"Derek get in the car!" The Alpha yelled.

 

Stiles had somehow all but forgotten about Derek, and he looked up to see him standing there, frozen in place with a look of absolute horror. For some reason Stiles flinched at the sight, and turned away with a whimper.

 

"Derek!"

 

Stiles felt the door slam shut beside him and a second later Derek was sliding into the passenger seat, shutting his door and then his dad was slamming his feet on the gas. Stiles felt Scott's hands on him, leeching some of his pain away, but it didn't matter because at the moment Stiles didn't feel any of it. 

 

"Stiles you need to calm down." Scott said gently but firmly at his side. "You're heart's beating way too fast. Faster than it's ever been."

 

"We have to kill him." Stiles drew out suddenly, surprising everyone in the car.

 

John glanced over his shoulder to look at him, worry in his eyes. "Stiles?"

 

"Ryan. We have to kill him. I thought that I could cure him. It said that you could. You had to use the ash to do it but it didn't work. It didn't work Scott because that's what he  _is_ there is nothing to cure he's just evil and we have to kill him. There is no other way we just have to kill him, okay? We have to kill him!" 

 

Derek suddenly whined in the front seat, hunching in on himself. 

 

Scott's face twisted in pity but he nodded, drawing Stiles closer against him. "Just calm down okay? You're really making me worry I'm afraid you're going to have a heart attack or something if you don't calm down."

 

Stiles tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. He clenched his eyes shut and the darkness there immediately reminded him of Ryan, so he jerked them back open. "He wanted me to go with him." 

 

Scott frowned at him, shaking his head. "What?"

 

"Ryan. He wanted me to go with him. He told me that he could just feed off of me and he would stop hurting other people. That I would be enough."

 

Scott groaned, laying his forehead against Stiles and in the front seat John had to struggle not to stop the car and get in the backseat, pulling Stiles into his arms. 

 

"I stopped him and got away. But I don't think he's dead, Scott. He's still out there somewhere."

 

Everyone tensed at the words 'stopped him', but no one dared say anything, too afraid of what Stiles reaction would be. "We'll find him, I promise." Scott reassured. "Deaton's weapon will be done in a few hours and we'll stop him, okay?"

 

"Got to kill him." Stiles said again, urging. "It's the only way."

 

In the front seat John lifted a shaky hand, shoving the back of his palm against his mouth to try and control the urge to sob, and Derek sat still, leaned forward in the seat, his claws out and dug into his blue jean clad thighs. 

 

They opted instead of the hospital to take Stiles to the McCall house. Melissa ended her shift early and was already waiting for them, and when she took one look at Stiles her wide eyes immediately grew wet. She shakily brushed the tear's aside and motioned for Scott to sit Stiles on the couch, rushing to the kitchen to get a cloth and warm water to wash Stiles wounds. The entire time Scott sat glued to his side, and John at his other. Derek stood uncharacteristically quiet in a corner, his eyes darting around the room, every time they landed on Stiles lingering a second before a look of utter pain filled them and he looked away. 

 

Stiles sat still the entire time Melissa cleaned his wounds, even when she began to stitch up the deeper ones. When she was finally done about an hour later Scott helped Stiles into one of his spare shirts and some pajama bottom's, and then surprised everyone when he asked his dad if he could start staying there instead of the loft. John and Melissa agree immediately, and Scott turn's to look at Derek, whose expression has gone blank. Scott offer's he and Kira stay there as well, and Stiles nod's in agreement, not saying anything else. Scott's phone is ringing then, and he stands, talking in hushed voices to the rest of the pack, reassuring them that Stiles is okay but suggesting that everyone wait until tomorrow to come see him. After about ten minutes of protesting they finally agree and Scott ends the call, back at Stiles side immediately. 

 

Derek suddenly say's something, his voice low, fast, and Stiles does not look up at him, even though everyone else does, frown's on their faces. He is aware of Derek rushing to the front door and then he's gone. Stiles think's a few minutes later he hears a wolf howl, and it's the most agonizing sound he's ever heard. 

 

Scott lower's him to the couch, pulling his feet into his lap and wrapping his hands around his calves. John and Melissa curl up together on the large recliner after a moment, which makes Scott stare in wide eyed shock, but eventually he just sigh's and look's down at Stiles, his face growing tight with worry.

 

The three of them remain awake long after Stiles has fallen asleep, and Scott makes sure to gently shake him awake whenever he start's having a bad dream, before settling down into unconsciousness again. Finally, when the sun's just beginning to rise on the horizon, they sleep as well.

 

 

************************************************

 

 

Stiles let's out a hiss as Lydia all but fling's herself against him, burying her face in his neck and clinging on for dear life. "Wounds, Lydia!"

 

The red headed girl gasp's and jerk's back with wide, teary eyes. "I'm sorry!" She nearly scream's before just wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging his head in a weird gesture that Stiles would most likely have had a heart attack from a few years back seeing as his face is all but shoved into her boobs. The next thing he knows Lydia is being pulled away and Malia is boob hugging him then, and Stiles yelps when Liam comes forward to do the same, making the hug even weirder. When they finally pull away Kira is in front of him, a relieved smile on her face. Thankfully she does not boob hug him, just hold's his face in her hands and lean's his head forward a bit, kissing his forehead. Stiles smiles slightly, grateful. 

 

Everything goes downhill from there.

 

"What the hell were you thinking?!"

 

'You realize you could have died, right?!"

 

"Dude that was totally not cool. I didn't think you were so dumb. Well-"

 

"Hey! I think we can all agree it was the wrong thing to do." Scott finally break's it up, his eyes glowing red. "But for right now let's just let him breath. He just woke up a few minutes ago and he needs to eat. We all do, so sit down!"

 

Everyone shuffled around with frowns but sat at the table. Melissa stood at the sink with arched brows, looking at everyone before turning to look at John who just closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "Alright, then." Melissa began to set plates of french toast in front of every, sitting two bottle's of syrup on the table. Everyone started digging in immediately.

 

Stiles just sat there for a moment, looking at everyone, before slowly reaching for a bottle of syrup and lathering his french toast in it. He glanced up at his dad to see him eating an omelet, and couldn't help but smile slightly at his pinched face. "Go ahead, Dad." Stiles said softly. His dad arched a brow but did not hesitate, grabbing three pieces of french toast from a plate on the table and a bottle of the syrup. Melissa watched him with a small grin.

 

Stiles looked at everyone, watching how every few seconds someone would glance up at him, as if making sure he was still there. Honestly, Stiles couldn't really blame them. "Where's Derek?" He asked before he could stop himself.

 

Scott froze at his side, licking his lips. "Uh, I'm not sure. Kira said he was gone when they woke up this morning."

 

Stiles felt his chest clench painfully but didn't say anything as he chewed. 

 

"How are you feeling?" Scott asked softly, watching him.

 

"A little sore, but I'm better." Stiles mumbled, and he felt Scott reach out and lay a hand briefly on his wrist, saw the black veins as he pulled his pain. Stiles batted his hand away. "Stop that. I'll be fine. I can just take some aspirin or something."

 

"You sure? I can feel your pain."

 

Stiles cringed at that but nodded, laying his fork down, no longer hungry. It was true he was in pain. His wounds ached and burned like a son of a bitch, but that was easily remedied. What hurt the most, though, was the painful ache in his chest, and Stiles had a feeling that Scott would not be able to help with that.

 

 

***********************************************

 

Later that day Deaton showed up with the weapon. It was some rustic looking stone dagger type thing that was carved with various different runes that Stiles had no idea what meant. When Stiles had looked up at Deaton dryly the druid had said that it wasn't so much the dagger itself that was powerful, but rather the items needed for the ritual that empowered the dagger. Stiles just took it to be one of those things that he would never fully get and had left the man and Scott to discuss the details on it, returning to sit next to Lydia and Parrish at the couch.

 

Parrish had showed up a few hours earlier, and had not been happy. At all. It had been his duty originally to make sure Stiles stayed to the loft, so he had felt responsible for his disappearance. Stiles had never felt so much like an ass. He had apologized to the man various times, all but begging his forgiveness, and Parrish, ever the sweet heart he was, had given it easily.

 

By time time the afternoon rolled around, Scott could sit still no longer. The pack was supposed to meet up with Argent at the preserve, and spread out from there on patrol. They hoped now that they knew where the Slaugh was staying, they would have a fighting chance at last. Stiles didn't even protest when they all left without him. He wasn't an idiot. One look at his dad and he had known he wouldn't be leaving the McCall house for a while. Plus, his dad had taken a few days leave, and so was always there to make sure he didn't try to run off again. But honestly, it was the last thing on Stiles' mind. After what had happened early that morning he wanted nothing more than to say within the walls of the house, and more often than not under the cover's of the guest bedroom. Which is where he was heading now.

 

Melissa had started her shift about an hour ago and his dad was sitting on the couch, the TV on softly. The man's head was bobbing as he struggled to stay awake. After telling him a quick goodnight Stiles headed up the stairs. After he took a shower he actually planned to go to sleep, even though it was hardly past five and still bright and shiny outside. Since his encounter with Ryan he just felt so tired, out of it almost, and wondered if a part of him was still in shock. He stared at the floor as he walked, his mind swirling in dark memories that made his heart speed up and his throat close and he pushed them aside, trying to calm himself. As he shut the guest bedroom door behind him and headed into the room, though, he froze, a gasp spilling past his throat as he saw Derek standing there in front of the open window.

 

He felt a sharp tug immediately dead center in his chest and took a step forward unconsciously, but then noticed that the wolf looked absolutely furious and froze, his eyes shooting wide in alarm. "Hey...."

 

Derek's brow's lowered even more, but he said nothing. Did not move.

 

Stiles licked dry lips, looking away nervously. "I know you're mad about me leaving. I know it was a stupid thing to do an-"

 

"You lied to me."

 

Stiles paused, turning back to look at Derek with a frown. "What?"

 

"The other day, when we were at the Preserve. You told me you were getting the wood for a weapon."

 

Stiles' mouth opened slightly and he stared at Derek a moment before clearing his throat. "Yeah, well it was technically a weapon."

 

"You said you were trying to 'cure' him in the car."

 

"Well.....yeah." Stiles stared down at his feet. "It's true. I found something that said a certain type of ash tree had the ability to purify faeries that had gone bad. But apparently we didn't have the right type of ash or it just wasn't true, because-" Stiles is cut off with a gasp when he's slammed into the wall suddenly, Derek's face mere centimeters from his own. 

 

"This thing has tried to kill you various times already. It's killed and infected other people. It infected a  _child_ the other day. A child that ended up killing a little girl because of it, and you wanted to  _cure_ him?'

 

Stiles cringed, looking away from Derek's eyes, seeing too much anger in them. "I know." He breathed shakily. "It was stupid, okay? I known I should never have done it. It was wrong of me to lie to you. To everyone."

 

Derek struggled in front of him, fighting for words, before finally jerking away with a growl, pacing a few times before getting up in Stiles face again, although this time he did not touch him. "What is wrong with you?!" He all but screamed. "Do you have a fucking death wish?! You are human, Stiles. HUMAN! You may have some of my strength and speed, but you can't heal, you understand that, right? Stiles you could have died!"

 

Stiles twitched under his narrowed gaze, taking a deep breath. "I know that." He tried to reply calmly, though is voice shook. "And I've already heard it from everyone else so you don't need to lecture me about it too."

 

"Apparently I do! Because you obviously never learn! You keep doing the same stupid shit, Stiles, and I can't take it anymore!" Derek grabbed him by shirt, jerking him closer.

 

"Well then don't!" Stiles finally shouted, pushing Derek away angrily. "Why do you fucking care anyways? Huh? I know it was stupid, Derek, okay? I can only say I'm sorry so many times!"

 

"Stupid? Stiles you - you almost got  _raped_!"

 

Stiles drew back as if physically slapped, cringing in on himself. He had known that Derek, Scott and his Dad had guessed, but none of them had said anything about it yet. Maybe because they knew it hadn't actually happened and figured by bringing it up the only thing it could do was hurt Stiles. And they had been right. Stiles tried not to wrap his arms around himself and lay down in a little ball, shutting the rest of the world away. "I'm fine." He whispered. "I stopped him before - I managed to get away, okay? Everything's fine."

 

" _How is any of this okay_? Because you keep acting so childish you're putting yourself in danger! And we keep having to rescue you! This isn't some story, you understand that, right? If you die nothing magical is going to happen! You aren't going to come back to life! This is not one of your mother's stories! This is the real world, Stiles."

 

Stiles felt anger shoot through him then and cried out, striking out at Derek. He hit him across the face and the werewolf stumbled backwards slightly before releasing a deep growl and slamming him against the wall again. He grabbing Stiles' flailing limbs at the wrist's, and held them hard against the wall on either side of his head, his eyes flashing blue and baring his fangs at him. Stiles felt that damned fucking urge to turn his head and bare his neck again and cried out angrily at it, trying to push Derek off of him with his body. 

 

 

"Stop it!" Derek hissed out, and when he didn't he swore and pulled away from him quickly, backing up and putting distance between them. They glared at each other a long moment, before Derek shook his head, turning away. "This is too much, Stiles. I can't deal with it anymore."

 

"What are you talking about?"

 

"You're driving me fucking crazy!" Derek shouted, twisting around to look at him. "I'm so angry at you and at the same time I feel the need to protect you and my wolf is going fucking insane and I can't take the chaotic emotions anymore!" Derek drew off, his eyes becoming serious. "I spoke to Deaton. He said that if one of us leave's it shouldn't affect the bond. That you'll still be fine."

 

A sickening feeling bloomed in Stiles gut suddenly. "What?"

 

"I've got to go." Derek choked out, his voice far too unsteady than he wanted. "After we defeat the Slaugh, I'm leaving."

 

Pain shot through Stiles abruptly, and he gasped from it's weight, his fist clenching against his chest. "What?" He just asked again, weakly.

 

"I can't stay here anymore. You're just to - I can't handle it anymore, Stiles. I just...I can't." Derek drew off, his eyes conflicted, filled with emotion. 

 

Stiles stood there, feeling like the wall's were closing in on him. Sadness cascaded with his sense of pain, and the combination of the two were stifling. He opened his mouth, feeling words on the tip of his tongue, wanting to spill out so badly, but then fear coiled low in his belly and he whimpered, shutting his mouth again. 

 

Derek's shoulders fell then, his entire body seeming to deflate. And the look in his eyes said he had given up. The werewolf opened his mouth, but after a moment he shut it as well, and yet somehow, the silence in the room was thunderous. Shaking his head with a sigh Derek turned, and without a moment's hesitation, jumped out of the window.

 

Stiles stood there a long moment, staring at the spot where he had once been, before his leg's carried him to the bed. Stiles fell onto it, curling in on himself, and cried.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i lied. i have 3 more chapters left after this one lol...maybe 4.....no more than 5!! argh :( i'm bad at control


	46. Evolved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of the pack is attacked by the Slaugh. Derek & Stiles see each other again.

The days passed in a blur for Stiles. After seeing Derek a few nights ago, Stiles had all but found himself living in the guestroom of the McCall house. He felt too down trodden to do anything more strenuous than climb up and down the stairs whenever his dad finally got tired of his sulking and demanded he at least move it to the couch every once in a while, just to give John peace of mind. The pack kept coming over, and while at first they had been soft and easy with him, that had changed abruptly one night to frustration, anger and hurt. Stiles understood fully what he had done. The shit fest he had brought, and he had never felt like such a dick. Honestly he took their anger in stride, welcomed in, because he kind of needed it. He needed someone to get on his ass and knock some sense into him. He had not only put himself in danger but everyone else as well, because no matter what enemy he had faced, they would have always ran head long to rescue him, even if that meant they themselves would get hurt. Somehow Stiles had failed to realize that. Ryan could have worked it against them, too. Could have used Stiles to get his way. The thought settled coldly in his belly and he hated himself a little more. They were a team, all of them. They did things together, not apart. He had to stop acting like he didn't know that.

 

The day after he fought with Derek Lydia had brought Thor over, and the dog had all but become a fierce protector of Stiles since, immediately standing, hair on end whenever someone would knock at the door or yell at him (which was happening a lot, actually. Still taking it in stride though). Annoyingly and adorably, the dog was at his legs every step Stiles took. To such an extent that Stiles couldn't walk without tripping over Thor. If Stiles didn't know better he'd say Derek must have had a 'wolf talk' with him, telling the animal to not let him go anywhere. Stiles really wouldn't put it past him. Thor still amusingly seemed to not be too keen on Scott. He'd let him touch him sometimes, but only briefly. And as far as Liam, Kira and Malia, not at all. He was all over Lydia whenever she was around, and seemed to like John as well; and whenever Parrish was there Thor seemed highly curious of him, often sniffing him and tilting his head this way and that, as if studying him quizzically. Which Parrish thought was adorable so was totally okay with it. No one really understood the hierarchy the dog had obviously put them in, but weren't too overly concerned either. Well, except for Scott. He just could not understand how something could not automatically love him, the adorable puppy dog he was. Scott - not Thor.

 

So far after various patrols, the pack and Argent had yet to come across the Slaugh, and even more surprising, no more bodies were turning up. No infected people raging in the street's. Scott had sat him down one night, asking if him he were sure whatever had happened to the Slaugh hadn't killed it, but Stiles knew that Ryan was out there still. As for what  _had_ happened that night in the woods, how Stiles had managed to escape, the only explanation he had was that the bracelet Deaton had given him had somehow energized more quickly than the Druid had though, and used its shield again to protect Stiles. Deaton had frowned at that, opening his mouth to say something, but then had just nodded, his eyes giving nothing away. Cryptic as ever. Argent was the first to voice the possibility that Ryan had just left. Realizing that he was being hunted and had run from the threat. So many of the pack were keen on that though, but Stiles knew it wasn't true either. According to the lore, the Slaugh was nearly unbeatable, and Ryan seemed to think of himself that was as well, with the confidence he oozed. Stiles just had a hard time believing he had given up. So everyone continued to patrol not only the preserve but the street's as well.

 

It was day four after the fight with Derek that Stiles finally broke and asked Lydia how Derek was, seeing as she, Malia and Liam were still staying at the loft. Lydia had cringed, looking at him with a hesitant gaze, and told him that he was gone most day's and night, and only came back to shower, change, and then leave again. The wolf was never vocal with them, just in and out without a word. Stiles had freaked immediately. Derek was out there  _alone_ , being  _stupid_ , after yelling at Stiles for the exact same thing?! He had been so mad he had almost decided to go back to the loft just so he could tell Derek that to his annoyingly handsome face. But that thought had made his gut clench painfully. He wasn't ready to confront Derek yet. Didn't even know what he would say. Stiles knew that he didn't want him to leave. Just thinking of it make him panicked, short of breath. The idea of telling Derek that, though, was somehow even more frightening, so, like the coward he was, he stayed at the McCall house. Which was really beginning to annoy him because Scott was leeched to him constantly, and Kira, who he really did love to death, wasn't much better. Most night's he found himself sandwiched between the two, staring up at the ceiling with a look of sheer annoyance. It wasn't until Kira had sleepily leaned her arm over to play with Scott's hair on the other side of him, and Scott had giggled - yes,  _giggled_ \- beside him, and then the wolf was lunging forward with a kissie face that was no doubt meant for Kira but had landed smack against Stiles mouth. After Stiles had made a ridiculously embarrassed squeak sound, Scott's eyes had jerked open. Scott had screamed, Stiles had screamed, Kira had eye raped them a little too hard.  It was a complete and utter mess that resulted in Stiles basically kicking their asses out of the room and making Scott sleep in his own damned bed for once. Stiles would be lying if he said he didn't start missing the cuddle sessions almost immediately, but damn if it meant he had to sometimes accidentally make out with Scott, he was okay with that. Besides, Thor weighed nearly as much as Stiles did - hell maybe a little more - so he had plenty to cuddle there, and whenever Thor woke him up in the morning's with a thick drooling tongue across his face, he told himself it was the lesser of two evils and just went with it. 

 

Life more or less grew quiet, and the quiet made Stiles more and more anxious. He knew Ryan was out there somewhere, waiting. Buying his time before he struck again. And his thoughs proved accurate, when he found himself jerking awake in his bed at about 3 AM one morning to the sound of crashing downstairs. Stiles felt his heart pound in his chest, fear choking him. Then, he heard Scott cry out in pain and the next thing he knew he was jumping out of the bed and running down the stairs, Thor hot on his heel's. What he stumbled upon was somehow even worse, though. Scott was stumbling through the front door, his shirt in shred's and four deep scratch mark's on his chest. Kira was supporting him, moving him to the couch where he collapsed. It wasn't until Stiles saw Argent following suit with Derek, who was even worse for wear, scratching covering his face and chest, that Stiles cried out, rushing forward instantly. Derek's gaze jerked up at his, and though his face was contorted with pain, he managed to give one of those brooding glares still, stopping, which caused Argent to stumble forward a bit in confusion. Argent arched a brow and looked back at him, then followed the wolf's gaze to Stiles, and rolled his eyes. Actually rolled his eyes, before grabbing onto Derek and forcing him over to the recliner. At that time John was stumbling down the stairs, his gun out. He spotted them and groaned relaxing a bit. Then he noticed the state they were in and swore, looking back up at the stairs.

 

"Melissa, you're going to want to bring your first aid kit!" He shouted before laying his gun on a small cabinet against the wall and moving fast into the living room. "What happened?"

 

"The Slaugh, we found it." Scott hissed, trying to sit up and cringing. "Or it found us."

 

Stiles sped around the couch, looking first at Derek, who was pointedly not looking at him, and then dragging his gaze to Scott. "What about the dagger?"

 

Scott turned a pain filled gaze up at him, and his eyes showed it all. "It didn't work."

 

Stiles swung away with a curse, running a hand through his hair. Of course it didn't work. What they fuck were they supposed to do now? How were they supposed to defeat Ryan?! Trying to remain calm Stiles turned back to Scott, looking him over, noting the still angry looking wounds on his chest. "What happened? Why aren't you healing?"

 

"I don't know." Scott gasped through his pain. "It's just not, and it burn's like a son of a bitch!"

 

Stiles panicked a full minute before holding out his hand. "Phone, now!" Everyone looked at him with confused expressions and he flailed impatiently. "I need a phone! We've got to call Deaton!"

 

Argent was the one that smacked a phone into his hand and Stiles dialed the Druid, beginning to pace. It hit him then that the rest of the pack wasn't there and he panicked again. "Where is everyone else!?"

 

"We were on different patrols." Scott said, his coloring growing more and more pale by the second. 

 

Stiles turned to look at Derek and found he wasn't doing any better. He looked worse, actually. Deaton's voice was on the other line then, tone clipped and normal, like Stiles wasn't calling him at three o'clock in the morning. "Deaton Derek and Scott were attacked by the Slaugh and they aren't healing. You need to get down here, now."

 

Deaton paused slightly, and the soft sound of cloth sliding could be heard, and Stiles imagined he was sitting up in bed. "Tell me what it looks like."

 

Stiles nodded and moved closer to Scott, leaning down to look at the wounds. He cringed. "Eh, okay it's four claw marks and they're pretty deep. But there's this like...black stuff in them. I don't know what it is but it doesn't look too good." Deaton was silent a moment, before he cursed, which was a little surprising to Stiles, and did an amazing job of making his panic rise. "Oh god don't do that. What is it?"

 

"I think the creature may be evolving."

 

"What? Evo- you can't be serious?!"

 

"Stiles you need to bleed Scott and Derek both. I think it's infected them with it's claws, like a poison. And unfortunately we still have no idea how to counter act said poison so the only thing you can do is cut them deeper, and bleed it out."

 

Stiles wanted to curl in on himself. "This really can't be happening." He drew out weakly.

 

"It's the only way. Unless you want to risk them becoming infected, and I have a feeling than an infected werewolf would be a lot harder to deal with. You're going to have to do this. Either you or someone else. I am kind of tied up at the moment but I can be there first thing when the sun's up. Stiles, this need's to be done now, before the infection spread's too deep. Good luck." And the line went dead.

 

Stiles stared at the phone like it were a disease and threw it at Argent. "I'm guessing you guy's heard that?" Stiles looked down at Scott and Derek, who looked slightly wild, all wide eyed.

 

Scott nodded silently, before suddenly he was jerking up. "Do it Derek."

 

"What?! Do what?!" Stiles looked between them, his eyes huge.

 

Derek sucked in a deep gasp through his nostrils before coming to his feet as well, nodding.

 

"Oh jesus you guys can't be serious." Thor began to whine at his feet, picking up on Stiles anxiousness. 

 

"You heard him. It's the only way. I don't want to start hurting people, Stiles." Scott licked dry lips, smiling down at Kira reassuringly and pushing her back to the couch. Kira looked back and forth between Derek, her eyes frantic.

 

"What the hell is going on?!" John yelled, Melissa coming down the stairs. She took one look at Scott and gasped, rushing to him immediately.

 

"Oh my god, are you okay?"

 

"It's okay, mom. Stand back, okay? Deaton say's we've been poisoned by the Slaugh, and there's only one way to get the poison out." Scott's gaze locked on John. "Make sure she doesn't try to stop us, okay?"

 

John's face was contorted in confusion but he nodded, pulling Melissa back, wrapping his arms around her. Argent arched his brows and stepped back as well, seeming to understand what was about to go down.

 

Stiles stared at the Derek and Scott like they had lost their minds. "You can't seri-" He drew off with a gasp as Derek's eyes flashed blue and he wolfed out, and the next thing he knew he was jumping at Scott, his claw's raking his chest. Scott released a roar, his eyes flashing red immediately, but he stood there, his hands clenched, and forced himself to be still as Derek dug his claws in deep, dragging them down his skin. Stiles heard Melissa scream behind him, and knew his dad was having to hold her back. Finally Derek drew his claws away, and Scott stumbled backwards, his chest now oozing blood, and Stiles watch with morbid fascination as some of his blood ran black. 

 

Scott groaned and had to catch himself on the couch as he tipped forward, and Kira immediately jumped up, wrapping her arms around him with a whimper. "I'm - I'm fine. Just a little dizzy." He drew out, looking down at his chest which was still bleeding heavily. 

 

"Are you an idiot!" Stiles was in front of him then, right in his face. "What are you going to do if it doesn't work, huh? You're already not healing, are you just supposed to bleed out and die faster now?!"

 

Melissa had apparently broken free from John, because the next thing Stiles knew she was running at Derek, her hand smacking hard across his face. Derek just stood there and took it, not even flinching. John was at her side again in an instant, pulling her away and talking softly. Melissa glared at Derek before running to Scott, crying out when she saw his chest. "You need to sit down. We have to take you to the hospital, I'm not going to be able to fix this myself." She spoke quickly, almost incoherent.

 

"Mom, mom, shh. It's okay." Scott said with a soft smile, lifting his hand to wrap around the back of her neck and tilting her head forward until their forehead's were touching.

 

"Scott, your chest!" Kira gasped out then.

 

Stiles looked down and saw with surprise, that his chest had begun to knit itself together now. "Oh my god...It actually worked. You must have bled out the infection!"

 

"Scott, I think you're going to want to do Derek now!" Argent called out suddenly.

 

Stiles twisted around to see that the wolf had stumbled back, and was leaning against the wall, his chest rising and falling harshly, his skin abnormally pale. He felt stomach tie in knots and whimpered. Scott was pushing past him though, already wolfed out. Something struck Stiles then, and he gasped. "Wait, Scott no! You can't! You're an alpha, if you hurt him he's not going to heal as quickly!"

 

"At least I'll still heal!" Derek bit out weakly, glaring at Stiles before looking back at Scott. "Hurry."

 

Stiles couldn't say how stupidly happy he was to have that glare on him. He realized how pathetic that was. But after going four day's without seeing the brooding wolf? Yeah. He was having some major withdraws. In fact it was so bad that he had a strange and most likely suicidal urge to just annoy the shit out of Derek (after he was better, of course) just so he could see the familiar brow's of doom work their way upwards to attaching themselves to his hairline. God he had missed the bastard. And had also been so lost in his own daydream's that he hadn't been aware Scott had dug his own claws deep into Derek until he was hissing in pain. Stiles silently cursed himself and moved closer to the two of them, stopping until he was just a few feet away, his hands wringing together nervously. 

 

"Deeper." Derek gasp's out.

 

Scott's lips draw back in a snarl and he's slashing through the man's chest again, his eyes bright red and glowing.

 

Stiles can't look anymore, not unless he want's to run forward and throw himself in front of Derek. Which he does - he just know's that this is what has to be done. So he forces his eyes closed and just stands there stiffly, the pain filled sounds Derek makes echoing around the room and shooting directly into his chest. He hear's a loud bang then and jerk's his eyes open, seeing that Derek as stumbled back against the wall, and is sliding down it weakly. Stiles can't stand still anymore. He doesn't care if the wolf is mad at him. Running past Scott he fall's to his knee's in front of Derek, his hands reaching out. Derek's glare jerk's up to him and he growls. "Would you just shut the hell up!" Stiles yell's before he even realizes it, and the wolf jerk's back slightly in surprise. Feeling kind of proud of himself Stiles lay's a hand hesitantly on his shoulder, and practically moans from the sensation of touching Derek again. He feel'a surge of warmth in his chest and knows that Derek had been affected too, even though the wolf only cut's narrowed eyes at him. Stiles ignores him, looking over his wounded, bloodied body. "Dad, will you bring some water and a cloth so we can clean him off? He's not going to heal as fast as Scott so we need to bandage him at least." Stiles hear's his dad rushing to do so and sit's back with a sigh, this time it's his turn to glare at Derek. "Are you both insane?! Sure I mean I can understand the logic of it, but jesus you do realize Melissa is a nurse, right? I'm sure she could have bled you both without it being so damned...dramatic! And highly gross by the way! Dude you've got this disgusting looking black goo in your blood!"

 

" _I'm so sorry, Stiles_!" Derek hisses sarcastically. "If it offends you that much then get the hell away from me."

 

Stiles tries not to let his words hurt him, he really does, but he feel's the sting anyways. Derek flinches as well, and he cut's his gaze away at the shared emotion, his nostril's flaring. John is at his side then, sitting down a large bowl of warm water and a wash rag. 

 

"You sure you got this? We can wait for Melissa."

 

"Melissa is too worried about Scott right now to think about anything else." And she was, the woman all but had the poor guy in a forced bear hug. "Don't worry dad. It's not like it's that difficult."

 

"Let Argent do it." Derek bit out, looking over Stiles shoulder.

 

"Actually I've got to head back out." Argent said behind them, his eyes on his phone. "I've still got men out there."

 

"Be careful." Stiles answers, not even bothering to look behind him as he wet's the rag and ring's it out. He lift's it to Derek's chest and after hesitating a moment presses it against one of the wounds. Derek arches his back with a hiss, and Stiles look's up at him with a sympathetic cringe as he tries to clean the blood and black mess off of him as best as he can. Only a few minutes later the water in the blood is a disgusting mess, as is the rag, and Stiles lean's back on his heel's. "I don't think we're going to be able to clean you off like this. You're just going to have to get in the shower. You've got way more wounds on you than Scott did." Stiles glares up at him. "Way to stay safe, dude."

 

Derek tries to make his head explode with his eyes again before trying to stand, groaning and beginning to sway. Stiles immediately helps support his weight, pulling one of his arms over his shoulder. "Scott, help me get him upstairs?"

 

Scott manages to pry himself out of his mom's arms and moves to help him, and together they both get him slowly up the steps and to the bathroom. "You realize someone's gonna have to help him, right?" Scott ask's, an 'an it's so not gonna be me' look on his face.

 

"Get the hell out. Both of you. I can do it myself."

 

Stiles laugh's mockingly. "Yeah. Right. Cause the last thing Melissa need's is her bathtub broken cause some 200 pound werewolf passed out in it because he's too stubborn to ask for help."

 

And okay, Stiles realizes he most likely had set himself up even before the sentence was finished, and wasn't surprised when Derek turned an equally as mocking laugh back at him.

 

"Are you really yelling at me about being too stubborn to ask for help, Stiles?" McBrowly shot's back, all sharp toothed.

 

"Uh, yeah. I'm just gonna.." Scott doesn't even finish the sentence, just slips out and shuts the door behind him.

 

Stiles glares down at Derek on the toilet seat before moving to turn on the water, testing it's temperature. "Look, I know I screwed up, okay? And if you had actually been here the past few days and not off sulking then you would have seen me apologizing to everyone at least ten times a day!" 

 

"There's a difference between apologizing and actually being sorry, Stiles!"

 

"Yeah, you dumb ass I  _am_ aware of that! And I  _am_ actually sorry." Once the water was warm enough he moved to get a towel out of the linen closet in the room and hung it over a rack on the wall. "I know I was being childish, okay. You were fucking right. I just - I thought I had something to prove still. To show you guys that I can actually help, which yeah, I realize now only got us in more shit!" He finally turned back to glare at Derek, lifting his hands almost desperately. "And you _know_ I'm telling the truth, so can we please just put this shit behind us?" Stiles sucked in a sharp inhale, his lungs burning form speaking so much without breathing. "Stand up so we can get this over with."

 

Derek sat there glaring at him a moment before he finally came to a shaky stand, his hand on the sink to keep his balance. He turned and made to get into the shower then and Stiles grabbed his bicep, stilling him.

 

"Whoa, what are you doing? You can't go in there like that."

 

Derek stared at him like he had gone crazy. "What?"

 

"Just take your freaking clothes off already and stop being annoying!" Stiles hissed before dragging his own shirt over his head, and he heard Derek suck in a sharp inhale. Stiles ignored him, tossing his shirt to the floor. His chest was still bandaged, and he realized that Melissa would most likely have to redo them afterwards. Sighing he moved his hands to his pajama pants to undo the tie on them.

 

"What the hell are you doing?!"

 

"I'm not getting in there with my clothes on you idiot. Why aren't you getting undressed?" Stiles frowned, eyeballing him as he pushed his pants down and stepped out of them. He saw Derek's eyes widen and his gaze cut downward, lingering a moment before jerking back to his face. Stiles tried to keep a look of indifference on his face, but he wasn't sure why. Derek would be able to catch the peak of arousal in his scent anyway. In their freaking link.

 

"Put your clothes back on, Stiles." The wolf gritted through his teeth.

 

"Oh my-" Rolling his eyes Stiles reached out and just freaking ripped the torn material of his shirt, tossing it to the ground as well. Derek gasped in surprise, and Stiles felt a new dose of lust crash into him, and couldn't help but feel a little smug knowing that it had come from the wolf. His hands were moving down to Derek's fly but the wolf growled out menacingly and pushed his finger's away. 

 

"I can do it!" He barked.

 

Stiles arched a brow and stepped back slightly, crossing his arms over himself and just watching. Derek huffed a moment before his deft fingers unbuttoned and zipped his pants - all with one hand. He stepped out of his shoes and kicked them aside, and then those sinfully tight jean's were going down. Stiles tried to keep his eyes on Derek's face, and succeeded for a remarkable amount of time. But he had always had a problem with self control so naturally after a moment they flickered down, and Stiles gave an inward groan. Jesus christ he missed the man's body. His hard, corded muscles. Stiles at least had the decency to not eyeball his boxer brief's, where a noticeable bulge was. Glancing further down he saw that Derek still had on socks and kind of rolled his eyes, dropping to his knee's. Derek stilled instantly above him, and Stiles all but saw the tremble that shook his body as the fine hairs on his leg's stood up. Realizing how their position must look Stiles cleared his throat, trying to push past the awkward haze of arousal. "Just taking your sock's off." He said in a far too breathless voice. The only acknowledgement Derek gave was a low growl, and Stiles very quickly helped him out of his socks, tossing them aside before standing, not quite able to meet Derek's gaze. "Alright, come on let's do this then." He wrapped an arm around Derek's waist, shutting his eyes briefly when their bare skin brushed against one another Realizing he was acting a bit like a creeper he forced a very painful image of Finstock in his brain and killed some of his want, carefully maneuvering Derek under the hot spray. Derek hissed immediately, the water hitting his wounds. "I'm sorry." Stiles said softly, maneuvering them until Derek's back was against the shower wall, Stiles in front of him and supporting him up. He reached up and took the shower head off of the wall, turning the pressure down a bit before looking up at Derek. "You ready?"

 

The wolf's jaw tightened but he gave a stiff nod. Stiles lifted the spray set to work. Derek hissed and cringed the entire time, and after nearly sliding sideways once Stiles was forced to wrap his arm tighter around Derek, push against him with his lower body to keep him up, and even with the pain they were still basically dick on dick at that point, and Stiles noticed that after that Derek didn't cry out as much. Stiles knew it was because his mind was addled with lust, and he tried to ignore the fact that he could feel Derek growing against him, all the while getting hard as well. When all of the blood was finally washed away, they were both shaky and breathless, and Stiles carefully turned off the water and returned the shower head to it's rightful place. He pulled away from Derek, despite every instinct he had telling him to do otherwise, and with an unreadable expression helped the man back out of the tub. Grabbing one of the towel's he handed it to Derek, and wrapped the other around his hips. "I'll bring a bag for your shirt and whatever else." Stiles said softly and then proceeded to high tail it the hell out of there. Scrubbing a hand over his face he stood in the hall a moment, trying to calm himself down so he didn't walk back downstairs with a boner. He was sure his dad wouldn't be too happy about that. When he felt like he wasn't in danger of scarring everyone for life he walked down, Thor greeting him at the bottom of the steps with a whine. Stiles smiled softly and ran his hand over his fur before entering the living room. Scott, his mom and Kira were all sitting on the couch, while his dad stood over them in a familiar stance with his hands crossed over his chest. John looked up as he entered, taking in his lack of clothing but saying nothing about it.

 

"How's it going?"

 

"Managed to clean off the wounds. Is there a bag or something he can use for his dirty clothes, Ms McCall?"

 

Melissa glanced up at him with a slight frown before snapping out of her thoughts. She nodded quickly and stood, heading into the kitchen and getting a grocery bag for him. "We're going to have to redo your bandages."

 

"Yeah, sorry about that. I know we've kind of been running you ragged these past few days."

 

Melissa smiled softly. "I don't mind at all, Stiles. I'm just glad I can help in some way."

 

"You help in more ways than you know." He said, reaching out and touching her arm briefly before sighing. "Well let me get back up there before he fall's and kill's himself." Smiling he head's back through the living room and up the stairs, knocking on the bathroom door. When Derek tell's him to come in he pushes it open and see's the man in his blue jeans again, ripped shirt, socks, and brief's on the floor. Stiles tries very hard not to think about the fact that he was going commando and hands over the bag. Stiles bend's and grab's his shirt, pulling it over his head again, he is about to pull his wet boxers out from under his towel but feel's suddenly self conscious. "Stay. Here." He bites out to Derek, grabbing his pajama pants from the floor and leaving the bathroom to go back to the guest bedroom and quickly change. When he is back out he finds Derek standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall and breathing hard. "Jesus you don't listen to anything."

 

Derek gives him one of those stares that say's Stiles really shouldn't be complaining. Sighing Stiles wraps his arm around his waist again and they start heading back down the steps. "Melissa will put some bandages on you until you've healed."

 

Derek nod's. Silent.

 

"You're still planning on leaving, aren't you?" Silence again. Feeling frustration eat at him Stiles shakes his head. "This is such bullshit, Derek! I've already said I'm sorry and I really meant it. And believe me, I don't plan on doing anymore dumb shit in the foreseeable future, alright? So just - just stay!"

 

Derek finally sighs, shaking his head with his eyes closed. "Stiles that's not the only reason I'm leaving."

 

Stiles stops walking at that, forcing Derek to as well. He look's at the wolf with a frown. "What? What do you mean?"

 

Derek glances up at him before turning away. "It's complicated."

 

"Everything is fucking complicated. When are our lives  _not_ complicated. Dude, just tell me!"

 

Derek's turning to him with a growl then, his eyes glowing blue. "It doesn't matter! Do you understand? I'm going to leave regardless. So just shut the hell up about it, okay?!"

 

Stiles wants to be mad. Jesus it's all he want's, but for some reason the emotion that cripples him is hurt. It makes his chest heavy and achy, and his stomach tight. Anger does come though, but only because Stiles is mad that he Derek is able to affect him so much. It's fucking unfair. He wants it all just to stop, to go back to how they used to be, when they fought and bickered, when Derek just pushed him up against things and threatened his life. His life was so much simpler back then. "Scott!" He yells, his body tense, coiled. Knowing his friend has heard him and is coming, Stiles turn's a glare to Derek. "You know what? Fine. Leave. Run away again, Derek, cause that's all you ever do. Just this time how about staying away, huh? Cause there's no way in hell I will ever willingly speak to you again." Scott appear's then, hesitantly, looking between them. "Hope you have a good fucking life." And with that he pull's away. Derek wobble's a bit but Scott moves forward swiftly to catch him before he can fall.  Swinging around Stiles head's up the stairs, calling Thor who shoot's past him and into the guestroom already. Stiles doesn't even look behind him as he slam's the door.

 

He stayed in his room the rest of the morning, Melissa having to come upstairs to change his bandages again. Scott came up too about an hour later, his warm brown eyes filled with worry. Stiles just shoot his head, letting Scott know he couldn't talk about it. Luckily Scott understood, and just sat with him there a while, until Kira came in as well and they all laid together, Thor taking up space at the foot of the bed. Before Stiles drifted to sleep he was sure to let Scott and Kira know that them sleeping in the same bed again was only a one time thing, and that they shouldn't hope for a repeat. Scott chuckled softly beside him, elbowing him softly in the ribs, and Kira kissed his hairline, snuggling more into his side. Stiles knew they would have to talk about what had happened when with the Slaugh when they woke up again, and was not looking forward to it. Because, honestly, if this magical dagger that was supposed to be the bane of all supernatural's hadn't worked, then what the fuck would? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter was kind of short, but the next one is going to be very long and filled with lots and lots of 'oh shit' moment's that you guy's (hopefully) hadn't seen coming lol I will try to have it up before too late tomorrow! Get back to updating earlier in the day again instead of during the dead of night lol thank's so much for all you guy's comments though :) it totally makes me feel ballin. lol


	47. Overwhelmed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it was pointed out that i completely forgot about Deaton coming over lmao i got so caught up in that shower scene I kinda forgot :3 No judgies. SOOO i edited just a wee tiny bit of the last chapter. Nothing that you would have to go back and read on. I just made it to where Deaton tell's Stiles he's 'a bit tied up' and can't make it there until morning. Which yah is sketchy i get lol but it goes hand in hand with something i had planned to reveal in the 2nd part of the story so it works out well and will be returned to. thanks guuuuuys!

Stiles woke up mad. More then mad. Royally pissed. Maybe it was because as soon as he had opened his eyes he remembered the infuriating conversation he had with Derek last night. Hell, for it to have been a conversation that would have actually had to talk. So yelling then. He had just remembered the yelling. And the absolute stubbornness of the werewolf. And if that wasn't enough to make him pissed Scott's knee's digging into his back, and Kira's arm slung over his face, surly did it. Why the hell did they insist on sleeping on either side of him?! Tossing Kira's arm off of him Stiles crawled from the bed, realizing he had a massive scowl on his face that would even give Derek a run for his money. Scrubbing a hand over his face he stomped out of the guestroom, Thor hopping from the bed and following. Stiles made a short trip to the bathroom, and on his way back out somehow hit his head on the door when he pulled it open. Swearing sharply he made his way down the stairs, positively furious now. Or at least he thought he had been, but when he saw Deaton sitting at the kitchen table across from his dad and Melissa, Stiles swore his vision went red.

 

"So,  _Doc_ , mind telling us how this mythical weapon that you spent so much time creating was a complete and utter failure?!" Thor growled low at his feet, his fur standing on end. _  
_

 

John's brow's raise immediately at his son's harsh tone and he look's him over, seeing that Stiles is tense and his expression pinched. "Stiles..." He say's in warning. He get's that the kids angry - but it wasn't like it was Deaton's fault. The man had went on the only lead he had. The fact that it had left them with nothing? Well sometimes these things happened. John had experienced it more often than he liked given his profession.

 

"No, I want answers. He preached how this was supposed to be the cure to all our problems, and because we went off of his words, Scott and Derek got mauled and almost infected last night! What if they would have changed, huh? Do you realize how disastrous that could have been?!"

 

John open's his mouth to say something again but Deaton pat's his hand with a soft smile, shaking his head. He turn's to Stiles then with one of those annoying ass look's that most likely inspired Gaga's 'Poke Face', and Stiles has to bite his tongue to keep himself from exploding.

 

"I understand that you're angry, and I'm sorry, Stiles. Yes, you're right. The dagger was a failure, and I regret that, but it was the only thing I thought would be able to defeat the Slaugh. Sometimes these things don't always follow through." Deaton's eyes go flick over him then, his gaze slightly judgmental. "As you are well aware of."

 

Okay. Yeah. That stung. But Stiles guesses he deserved it. His shoulders slumping Stiles moved and sat down on a chair, resting his elbow's on the table and scrubbing his hands over his face. Thor sat against his leg's and Stiles reached down to run a hand along his head and sighing. Deaton was- annoyingly- right. After all hadn't Stiles just failed in creating a weapon that could defeat/cure Ryan as well? It was kind of hypocritical of him to be such a hard ass on Deaton for doing exactly what he had done. Actually, had Deaton even done anything wrong? He had told the pack what he was doing. He hadn't been keeping it some secret so he could sneak off and try to fight the Slaugh all on his own. Ahh!! Stiles was so fucked up lately. What the hell was wrong with him? Since when had he gotten so dumb? Scott was the one that was supposed to run off without telling people and get them all in trouble. Christ - did that make Scott more mature than him?! Stiles groaned, rubbing at his right temple. "I'm sorry man. I'm having a really bad morning for some reason."

 

Melissa smiled softly at him and stood from the table. "Why don't I start making some food. I'm sure everyone else will be awake soon."

 

"Yes, I still have to look Scott over and make sure he's okay. I've already checked in on Derek."

 

Stiles felt himself perk up a bit at the older werewolves name - which was annoying as shit. He tried to play it off, putting on a bored expression. "So what's the diagnosis, Doc? How is our favorite grumpy werewolf?"

 

"His wounds have begun to heal, though it will still take time before they are gone completely. Because Derek's wounds were more serious than Scott's, he did have to go deeper to successfully bleed him out. But all in all, he'll live. And he's not showing any traces of being infected."

 

Stiles released a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding, leaning back in his chair. Well. At least he was alive. Stiles may have a strong urge to strangle the guy, but he wanted him to be okay. "Let's just hope he keeps his furry ass to the loft until he's healed. Maybe I can convince Malia to slip in some wolfsbane in his food or something." Cause no, he wasn't above that apparently.

 

"I believe Derek is smart enough to know better. Or at least I hope so. It seem's people are acting quite out of character lately."

 

Okay. Yeah. If Deaton didn't stop with the burn's Stiles was gonna need some major aloe. "Alright, I get it already, jeez." 

 

"Well he does have a point." John chimed in, and Stiles glared at him.

 

"Not you too. Look people, I've had five days to realize the error of my ways, okay? I don't plan on making them again."

 

"I hope not, cause I don't think I can go through this again, Stiles. You're going to send me to an early grave I swear." Melissa laid a hand on John's shoulder, placing a cup of tea in front of him and smiling down, trying to use her super awesome mom powers to sooth the man. It seemed to work because John sighed, squeezed Melissa's hand and picked up his mug to sip.

 

Stiles stared down at the table feebly. He felt like shit all over again. It seemed like lately all he was doing was screwing up. He wanted to make it better, really he did. And he knew that with his dad and most of the pack it would come easy. Natural. But with Derek? Stiles couldn't even begin to understand what he needed to do there. Not that it would do any good. Derek made it clear that he was leaving afterwards. Hell, Stiles had all but told him not to come back last night if he did. He regretted the words now. Immensely. Because no matter how mad at Derek he may be, he still felt a strong connection with the man. He was hurt more than anything. Did Derek care so little about their friendship that he would just leave Stiles? 

 

But then again...wasn't it selfish for Stiles to have that mentality? Derek was a grown man. He was allowed to do what he wanted. Besides, once Stiles graduated he had planned on leaving. So how would that be any different to what Derek was doing? 

 

Scott and Kira were shuffling down the stairs then, and Stiles watched the way the two of them clung to one another, laughing and touching, almost as if there was no one else in the entire universe but them. Jesus what he wouldn't give for something like that. Even when he had been with Malia, the two of them were never so close.

 

"Ah. Scott. Good to see you well."

 

Scott looked up at Deaton with a grin, heading over to the table. "Thank's for coming by. Have you seen Derek yet?"

 

Deaton nodded and began to fill Scott in on how the older werewolf was doing. As Melissa sat a plate of egg's and some toast down in front of him Stiles dolefully ate, kind of zoning out their conversation. The minutes passed, and as Stiles stood to rinse off his plate, he felt another surge of stifling anger wash over him and growled low in his throat. Growled. Like a damned animal. Freezing, he chanced a glance over his shoulder and noticed everyone was watching him with arched brows. Stiles groaned and shut his eyes.

 

John blinked a few times at him. "Did you - just..."

 

"Oh my god. Yes, people. Okay? I growled." He snorted and threw up his hands. "Why? I have no idea. All I can figure is I must be channeling some of Derek through the link, cause I've been pissed off all morning and I have no idea why. So stop looking at me like I'm crazy."

 

"Dude," Scott laughed softly, a near proud look on his face. "That was impressive."

 

"No, it was weird is what it was. So why don't you do me a favor and send Mr. Happy himself a text and let him know to cool it cause I'm starting to pick up on his wolfish way a little too much!" Tossing the rag back to the sink he made a point to glare at everyone before stomping towards the stairs, Thor trotting after him. "I'm going back to sleep." He muttered, so done with all this.

 

Sheriff Stilinski had to go back to work soon after that. Stiles spent his days at the McCall house, researching along with Scott and the rest of the pack. Someone pointed out one day that it was like he and Derek were divorced parents and the rest of them were their children. The pack spent their mornings and day's with Stiles, and then when it got later headed to the loft with Derek, and then out on patrol. Stiles hadn't found it very funny, but every laughed a good ten minutes, teasing him about it. Everyone knew that he and Derek were at odd's with each other, but none of them knew Derek planned to leave until Stiles finally told Scott one night in a moment of weakness. Stiles had broken into Melissa's liquor cabinet and proceeded to get pretty well plastered, flipping through the channels and moaning and groaning about anything and everything. He had found himself stopping on some stupid kid's movie whose main villain had a major case of Derek brows. Stiles had taken one look at the guy and nearly started crying. It had been sad and pathetic and Scott had been freaking out and Kira petting him like he were a damned dog, while the actual dog - Thor - just tried to grossly lick his face. For the next hour Scott and Kira had sat with him, going over all the reason's why Derek Hale was such a complete and utter asshat until Stiles had fallen asleep.

 

When Melissa and his dad both worked late shifts, Stiles was forced to hang out at the station with his dad. It wasn't that bad, really. He had Parrish there to keep him company and Lydia usually showed up as some point, and the three of them would sit around and eat candy and watch horrible movies on his laptop. 

 

No one had seen Ryan since he had attacked Scott and Derek in the preserve. Everyone was freaking out, and not a minute went by that they didn't feel paranoid, glancing over their shoulders and looking in every dark corner. Bodies had still yet to turn up, and no one was infected. They didn't know what the hell was going on. It had never really been said, but Stiles was pretty sure if Ryan did not feed then he would die, so he knew, sooner or later, something was going to show up. 

 

As the day's wore on he found himself at the mercy of Derek's second hand emotions quite often. And while it was mainly rage that shocked his system, sometimes, late at night, he would wake up with an overwhelming ache in his chest, feeling more alone than he ever had. Stiles hated those moments, because the thought of Derek being so lonely killed him. Freaking  _killed_ him, but he was too proud and stubborn to do anything like call or text the man. So he just laid there until the sun rose, breathless. Empty. 

 

And then one morning he woke up with his heart pounding and his body jittery. Which was really not quite unusual for Stiles, but it was to such an extent that he felt like screaming. Stumbling out of bed Stiles moved immediately to the bathroom, turning on the cold water and stripping, standing under the spray with a groan. His body was warm. Way to warm. If he didn't know any better he'd say he had a fever, but he didn't feel the least bit sick. It felt like he had just drank ten red bull's and stayed out in the sun too long. For a long while he just leaned against the shower wall, to overwhelmed to even attempt to wash. After about fifteen minutes he was finally slightly more stable, and hurriedly went about cleaning himself before wrapping a towel over his waist and collapsing on the toilet seat. What the hell was wrong with him? This wasn't a panic attack, at least not one that he had ever felt before. After a few minutes of struggling, the bathroom door slammed open and Stiles jumped, his eyes shooting wide. Scott was standing in the doorway, his gaze looking over Stiles frantically. "Dude! What the hell?"

 

Scott frowned, tilting his head back a bit and sniffing the air. "I'm sorry. I though - you were...are you okay you're heart beat is going crazy and I can smell your anxiety."

 

Stiles rolled his eyes before leaning back against the toilet with a sigh, shaking his head. "I'm fine. I mean I think. Ah! I don't know Scott. I'm feeling really weird right now."

 

Scott moved further into the small room, sniffing the air around him again. "What's wrong?"

 

Stiles struggled to find the right words. "I'm just - I feel like my skin's crawling, you know? I feel hot but not sick, and I can't seem to calm myself down. But it's not like I'm having a panic attack." He drew off with a swear. "Man I don't even know how to explain it."

 

Scott stared at him a moment with a incredulous frown. "I think I do. Dude.. I think you're having full moon symptoms."

 

Stiles stared at him a moment before understanding struck and he rolled his eyes with a groan. "You have  _got_ to be kidding me! Seriously?! Jesus christ this link is freaking  _annoying!_ "

 

Scott gave a small grin of sympathy. "I have a feeling it's just going to get worse. We at least can ease the symptoms by turning. I don't know what the hell you're gonna do."

 

Stiles leaned his head against the wall behind the toilet, sighing. "Great. This is just...great."

 

"I usually feel better after I go for a run. You wanna see if that helps any?"

 

"Sure. I mean what the hell else can I do?" Standing he pushed past Scott to the guest room. "Let me just get on some clothes. Meet you and Kira downstairs?"

 

Scott nodded, looking like he was really feeling for his friend. 

 

Stiles was beginning to think he was the universe's bitch or something. And he was frankly kind of tired of it. It wasn't just the supernatural crap, either. It felt like he had the worst luck out of anyone on the entire planet. Hmm. Maybe he was cursed. That happened, right? Maybe he should go see someone about that. Hell, it couldn't hurt any. After changing into some gym shorts and a tee shirt he snapped a leash on Thor and jogged with him down the stairs, the dog all but dancing in it's excitement to go for a run. Kira and Scott were already downstairs in similar exercise wear, and Scott was shifting back and forth from one foot to the other, with a look of slight impatience on his face, and Stiles was reminded that he felt the full moon's pull as well. It was so strange. Scott had been a werewolf for years now and sometimes Stiles forgot how it could be for him. He had his control down to a freaking T, but that didn't mean he still didn't get a case of the jitter's when it was the day of the full moon. Stiles vaguely wondered how the rest of the pack was doing as they headed out, starting into a run once they reached the road. 

 

One thing Stiles had learned to really love through he and Derek's link, was the new thrill he found in running. He remembered how wore out he usually was when Finstock made them all do suicides during practice. Hell sometimes Stiles thought his lungs were going to burst and he would never walk again. But now? Now he found it thrilling. He liked to challenge himself, see just how far he could go. Yeah. Being a werewolf may have downsides, but the thrill of running was definitely not one of them. 

 

The four of them ran for hours it seemed, and only stopped when Thor couldn't take anymore. When they all stumbled back into the McCall house, Thor running for his bottle of water, Stiles fell down onto the couch in the living room, Scott and Kira with him. They were all three breathing quick, hard, their bodies covered in sweat and their hearts beating fast. But it felt good. Really good. And Stiles' body seemed to have calmed down a bit, no longer feeling like he was going to crawl out of his freaking skin. "Dude. I am so gonna have to shower again." Scott and Kira laughed, curling in on each other for some kisses, which Stiles made a disgusted face at. "Dudes, how can you even be thinking of that when you're both practically  _glistening_ in nasty sweat."

 

"You're gonna sweat either way." Scott says with a wicked grin, making Kira blush.

 

Stiles turned away from the two of them with a groan, putting his hands over his ears. "Oh my god no. Just - no. Wait until I'm out of the room at least, jeez." Shaking his head he turned to head back up the stairs for his second shower that morning, noticing with a sigh of relief that while his leg's now felt like jelly he wasn't quite as worked up as he had been. And while his skin may have felt hot right now, it was only because he have overexerted himself, and the cold water cooled him down quickly. As he reached to turn the spray off, a sudden and wicked idea struck him. His mind went back to that time at Derek's loft, when he had touched himself in the shower,  _because_ he had felt Derek touching himself through their link.  A hot flush spread over Stiles and he considered touching himself again. Wrapping his hand around his base and imagined Derek doing the same. That thought alone was enough to get him instantly hard, and Stiles shut his eyes with a shaky exhale. Honestly he wanted to do it just to piss Derek off, sort of an 'in your face' type of thing. But he remembered that Scott was downstairs with Kira, and it  _was_ his house after all. It didn't help that he knew Scott would know what he was doing too. In the end he decided it most likely wasn't the smartest choice, and after drying off and changing headed back downstairs to an empty living room and kitchen. He stood there confused a moment, calling out Scott's name, and then heard soft laughter from upstairs. Stiles was halfway up the steps when he stopped, his eyes narrowing as he realized what was happening. "Really, guys?! While I'm here?! Not cool man, not cool!" He turned around and started stomping back down the stairs, and then just because he was a dick turned slightly. "I SHOULD HAVE JUST JACKED OFF IN YOUR SHOWER LIKE I WANTED TO!"

 

He heard Scott's horrified groan and grinned, happy with himself. In the kitchen he searched through the fridge and settled on some orange juice and an apple, sitting down at the table with a pout. Thor came to stand by his legs, whining softly and rubbing against him. "I know buddy. They've got no sense of decency." Reaching down he scratched the dog behind the ear as he took a large bite of the fruit, wiping off some juice as it slid down his chin. He isn't sure how long he's there before his dad comes walking into the kitchen, scratching at his stomach and yawning. Stiles grin's up at him, sliding his glass of orange juice over and John pick's it up with an incoherent mutter and drown's it in one go. 

 

"Morning, sunshine." Stiles quips teasingly.

 

John eyeball's him a moment before heading to the fridge and pulling it open, staring in a moment before letting out a defeated sigh. "Why is it that all the food I actually want I can't have?"

 

"Well, pops, hate to break it to you, but we don't always get what we want."

 

John snorted, settling for an apple himself and pulling up a chair beside Stiles. "How very adult like of you."

 

Stiles waggles his brows before standing up, looking through the cabinet's and pulling down some oatmeal to make for him. "How was work?"

 

"Uneventful. And frustrating."

 

Stiles nod's silently, his face fallen as he pours the oats into a bowl and put's some water to boil on the stove. "We're going to get through this, okay? He can't hide forever."

 

John is quiet a long moment, long enough for Stiles to finish his oatmeal and set it down in front of him. As John pick's up his spoon and takes a bite he glanced sideways at Stiles, chewing. "Is that what we want, though?"

 

Stiles frowns. "What do you mean?"

 

"I mean we have no idea how to stop this thing. Everything we have tried so far hasn't worked. What if we  _can't_ stop it?"

 

Stiles look's at his father a moment before leaning towards him on the table, his eyes serious. "Hey. Everything has a weakness, alright?  _Everything_. And just because we don't know what it's weakness is now doesn't mean we can't figure it out."

 

John look's down at his oatmeal, eating a few more minutes in silence. "And have you found out anything else?"

 

The question made Stiles sit back with a sigh after a moment or two, shaking his head. "Not yet. But we will. We always do."

 

"I'm just worried, Stiles. After you getting hurt I'm just....I can't lose you too, kid."

 

The sound of utter desperation in the Sheriff's voice makes Stiles cringe. God he hate's seeing his father like this. Hate's seeing that fearful look in his eyes. It reminds him so much of after his mother had first died. Reaching across the table Stiles grips his father's hand, which is laying on the surface. He squeezes it, looking the man dead in the eye, trying to appear as confident as possible. "You're not gonna lose me. I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

 

John hesitantly glances up at him, searching his eyes before sighing softly and nodding, finishing his oatmeal. Melissa comes down a few minutes later, looking at their hands still together and smiles gently, kissing first Stiles on the forehead and then John. Stiles feel's his heart ache at the sight, and he knows - just knows - that one day the two of them are going to get married. He finds warmth spreading across his chest in happy ripples, and can't wait for the day.

 

************************************

 

 

 

"Parrish, my favorite mystery man! Tell me you've got the good stuff."

 

Parrish glances up from his desk, where he had been staring hard at a manila folder. He closes it immediately and pull's open a drawer on his desk, sliding it in, before leaning back in his chair and looking up at Stiles with a grin. "If by good stuff you mean the world's worst B rated horror movies and an entire grocery bag full of food that you'd never let your dad near, then yes, I have the good stuff."

 

Stiles does a little fist pump and moves to pull up a chair next to the desk, sitting his laptop down on it. "Slow night so far?"

 

Parrish sigh's, shaking his head. "Aside from the call we got about the lady with the rabid raccoon in her house, no."

 

"Oh, dude. That's...kind of funny actually." 

 

Parrish gives him a dry stare before sitting a brown bag of take out in front of Stiles, who reaches in and shoves a handful of curly fries in his mouth immediately, closing his eyes and moaning.

 

"Come on my man, tell me you got the strawberry cheesecake shake."

 

Snorting softly Parrish hands him one of the two Styrofoam cups. "You know, for someone who preaches health nut to their dad, you really do have poor eating habits."

 

"Hey. I'm a teenager. I'm supposed to have poor eating habits. Lemme see the movies." Parrish hands over three movies to him and Stiles goes through them before gasping, grabbing onto one. "Dude. Seriously this isn't even a question!" He hold's up the Elvira movie lovingly. "This right here, this is cinema GOLD, Parrish. Freaking gold!"

 

Parrish roll's his eyes and sit's back with his arms crossed over his chest, watching as Stiles put's the disk in his laptop and work's on getting it set up. "How are you feeling?"

 

Stiles shrug's a trim shoulder, squinting his eyes at the laptop screen. "I'm good. My chest doesn't feel like I was dragged on the road for a mile long anymore. Just kind of itches. Which is actually a good sign so. Yeah. What about you? How you holding up with all of this?" Stiles glances up at him.

 

Parrish draw's a bit straighter, running his hand over his mouth. "I'm frustrated. And worried. I don't want this thing hurting anyone else."

 

"Right there with you, dude." Stiles said softly, sitting back with a sigh as the movie started. "We'll figure it out though." God. It just felt like he was saying that constantly these day. And what was worse was the fact that it was starting to lose depth. Sometimes Stiles wondered if he just said it to reassure himself. Convince himself that everything was going to be alright. The truth was they  _hadn't_ figured it out yet. And it was going on two week's since they had found out that Ryan was the Slaugh. Now Ryan had made it to the most wanted list for the death of his exchange family, while unknowingly to the town he was also behind the recent strings of murders and those deceased by the infection. Things were a mess. And they just kept getting sloppier. 

 

"Sometimes I wonder why I ever came to this town."

 

Stiles is pulled out of his thoughts, and look's up with slight surprise, finding Parrish staring at the laptop, his expression distant, confused. Stiles sighs, leaning an elbow on the desk and propping his fist against his cheek. "Yeah, we get that a lot. From what I understand it has something to do with the Nameton being a sort of beacon for all things that go bump in the night. It's broadcasting even now."

 

"How are we supposed to stop it?"

 

"Honestly? I have no idea. I mean, the lore say's that cutting the tree is supposed to cause disaster's and bad fortune, and as you know we've got our fair share of that here. But I mean what's left for us to do? Do we destroy it completely? Cause something just tell's me that that would only complicate things even more." Stiles drew off, his thoughts drifting to that time where all he would dream about was the stump of the Nameton. It had haunted him, calling out to him. Even thinking about it now caused a shiver of dread to flow down his spine. 

 

"So...this is never going to end, is it? Always having to fight." 

 

Stiles looked up at Parrish, clearly seeing that he was struggling with something. "Honestly? I don't know. I wish I did though."

 

Parrish released a deep sigh, before picking up his milkshake and sucking at the straw. "I'd feel a little better if I knew exactly what I were. At least then I could have an idea of how I can help you guys."

 

"Hey. You do help us. Even before we found out that you were something supernatural. You're a freaking cop man. It's what you do."

 

"Yeah. It just seem's like it's not enough lately."

 

In that moment, Stiles felt like he was talking to himself, and it was more than a little unnerving. He felt anger fill him, and practically slammed his milkshake down on the desk, startling Parrish a little. He leaned forward, glaring over at the man. "That's bullshit, so don't even say it. You are a part of the pack now. This isn't some one man show. We've got your back and you've got ours, alright? It doesn't matter how strong or weak you think you are, because the fact is you aren't just 'you' anymore. You're 'we'. And we are strong  _because_ we are a we. And I swear that whole speech sounded so much better in my head." Stiles groaned, burying his face in his hand. "Look, dude. You don't have to be 'enough' of anything. That doesn't even fit in the equation anymore. We're a pack, we are strong because we are together."

 

A slow smile lift's the corners of Parrish's lips. "Glad to hear that. Try to remember it yourself to, alright?"

 

"Yeah yeah yeah. You gonna fuss me out too?" Stiles roll's his eyes, looking back at the overly dramatic large breasted woman with the huge black wig on the laptop.

 

"No. Just reminding you." Parrish stood, pushing his desk chair back. "Pause it? I think a bathroom break is in order."

 

"Sure thing Smokey."

 

Parrish stares down at him with an 'are you serious' look before just shaking his head and leaving the small office. Stiles watches him through the glass, until he cut's a corner and vanishes. He sit's there, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He stretches with a loud yawn, twiddling his fingers and looking around. And then he can't hold it in anymore. Jerking up he makes his way behind Parrish's desk and pull's open the drawer, grabbing the folder and opening it. What he see's makes him pause, a frown on his face. Blinking down at the paper's a moment Stiles hurriedly shut's the folder and drawer again, returning to his seat, his brow's lowered in confusion.

 

"Hey kid. Where's Parrish? You annoy him already?" John stuck his head in, a smirk on his face.

 

"Ha ha. Very funny. He just went to the bathroom." Stiles rolled his eyes, making a point to pull out his thick juicy burger and take a bite, chewing loudly. 

 

His dad's grin turned to a narrowed glare. "You are evil."

 

Stiles wagged his brows at the man who just shook his head and walked away. A moment later Parrish was walking through the entrance way again, his brow arched. 

 

"Why does your dad look like he wants to murder someone?"

 

"Because he's jealous that he can't have this glorious heart attack disguised as a burger."

 

Parrish snort's, coming back to sit behind the desk. "You should really cut him some slack, you know."

 

"He's allowed an off day once every two week's. So don't let him fool you."

 

Parrish shakes his head with a grin, and they return to watching the incredibly bad but so very amazing mess of a movie. Stiles glances up every so often though, watching Parrish, and wondering why he had been reading the old Hale house fire case.

 

 

**********************************************

 

It's around five when Stiles starts feeling antsy again. He stands up from where he had been sitting at his dad's desk and walk's around the police station for an hour straight, feeling his dad's and Parrish's eyes on him the entire time. At that point his skin start's to crawl again, and Stiles keep's itching at it in annoyed frustration, which only makes his arm's red and angry looking so he opt's for some vigorous rubbing instead, hoping that will help. In the end it only creates some very odd images as he's pacing all but fondling himself. While his dad may have not liked it, it certainly seemed to entertain the biker someone had just brought in for a bar fight. Maybe it had entertained him a bit too much, though, cause after a few minutes the man had started to offer suggestions of where Stiles should rub next. Yeah. Totally uncalled for. 

 

It only took thirty minutes after that for someone to ask if 'the Sheriff's kid's on drug's', much to Stiles amusement. Again. His dad hadn't taken it well and had all but shoved a bottle of Aderall in his hands and demanded he take one Stiles had made some comment about the dangers of overdosing - not seriously, just to make the man twitch- and his dad had swore that if Stiles didn't take one of the pills immediately he would hold him down and shove it down his throat. 

 

Stiles had taken the pill.

 

The pill hadn't worked.

 

By the the time it was fully dark outside, Stiles felt like he was going to die. Maybe that was a bit dramatic, but something was definitely up. The unbearable warmth had returned to his skin, and he found himself throwing his plaid over shirt off, and pulling the sleeve's of his tshirt as far up as they could go, really wishing he had worn shorts. Even his  _feet_ felt hot. How was that possible? 

 

"Bathroom." Stiles croaked to his dad, who was face deep in some paperwork. John glanced up briefly at him, his narrowed gaze looking Stiles over before giving a slight nod, and Stiles all but ran out of the room the the bathroom, apologizing to a few people that he may or may not have shoved out of the way.

 

Pushing open the door he made sure that no one else was in there before locking it, stumbling over to the sink and turning on the water. He drenched himself in cold water immediately, sighing when the chill hit his too hot skin. After sucking in a few deep gulps of air he lifted his head, and let out a shocked cry as he met his reflection, pulling away. But then what he had thought he had seen wasn't there, and he was just staring at himself, wide eyed and scared. 

 

Lifting a shaking hand Stiles rubbed it on the back of his neck, turning away from the mirror and pacing a little. He had to do something. He had to get out of the damned bathroom. Out of the station. He  _needed_ to go, he realized that now. Just needed to be away from the closed in brick walls and somewhere open where he could be free. His dad would never let him leave, though. Stiles almost whimpered at that thought. His gaze shot around him, darting everywhere, looking for some sort of escape, and landed on the small window high on the wall. Licking dry lips he scurried over to it. It was some ways up there. He wasn't sure if he would be able to reach it, let alone open it. Or hell, fit through it. But he had to try, didn't he? 

 

He jumped, hand's reaching out, and missed. This time Stiles did whimper. Looking back up  he tried again. And missed again. With each failed attempt the storm raging within him increased in intensity, and Stiles cried out painfully. He just knew if he could reach the window and get out of it then everything would be better. He would stop feeling... _everything_. Holding his breath Stiles bent his knee's and jumped. And caught the ledge. He let out a victory cry, pulling himself up with more ease than he would have imagined. He pried at the window, still supporting the lower half of his body. After a stressful moment the window finally jerked open, sounding like it had not been used for a very long time. Scurrying upwards Stiles all but fell out, landing on his back with a groan. He rolled over and pushed himself to his feet, immediately closing his eyes and sucking in a deep, satisfied breath of crisp night air. He could feel it ghost down his throat and settle with much needed coolness in his lungs. 

 

The next second all Stiles could think about was one word.  _Run_. He did not hesitate. His feet hitting the pavement hard he took in his surroundings quickly, headed for the slight scope of tree's a bit away's. He just needed them for cover. Just for a moment. And then he could go to where he really needed. His thought's made no sense to him, and he wasn't even really aware enough to question them, so when he reached the tree's and the next second was pulling his shirt over his head, it seemed the most normal thing in the entire universe. And when he was kicking off his shoes and lowering his shaking fingers to his pants, it was like routine. 

 

He stripped there, in the woods, under the cover of tree's. His face every few seconds looking up to spy the moon through the branches. And then he was running again. 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe my brother and i are super close. We were like twins growing up. He and i share a bit of a nomad gene so we really don't see each other much because we move around a lot. But whenever we do actually get to hang out we kind of have this ritual where we get shit faced drunk & watch Elmo in Grouchland, taking shot's every time someone say's something about the bad guy's eyebrows. lol it's so completely stupid, but i love it to death and just had to include it in the chapter :P


	48. Instinct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles changes to something more, and Derek is there to help him through it.

Derek had woken up restless, the pull of the full moon weighing heavy on him. His skin had ached painfully, his heart pounding in his rib cage and his entire body screamed to change. He had denied the urge in the beginning. He didn't have time to allow himself to mindlessly run, seeking out some solace to his urgent need. The Slaugh was still out there, and Derek couldn't stand the fact that it hadn't been seen again since he and Scott were attacked. They had been all over the preserve, all over the town, looking for traces of the thing, and could find nothing. What made it even more infuriating is the Slaugh in it's true form seemed to carry no smell whatsoever. It was like a shadow. A whisper that Derek could never find the source of. It was confusing, because Ryan himself did have a scent. So how was it that when he changed his form, that vanished?

 

They had searched for the boy's scent as well, but after finding nothing, they had come to the conclusion that Ryan must be staying in his true form. So how was it that no one had reported a large nightmarish creature? Ryan had to be hiding out somewhere, it was the only explanation. 

 

He had driven to the preserve, searching the wood's a while before finally falling victim to the change, and even in wolf form he had searched. After hours of nothing, Derek had given up, changing back and slipping into his camero. He hadn't wanted to return to the loft so soon, though, and had instead headed to town, parking his camero and then walking the rest of the ways. As he walked he rubbed absently at his chest. His wounds had finally finished healing, and his skin felt new and stretched tight, slightly itchy, which made no sense what so ever. He was a werewolf. Once they healed, that was just it. They were  _healed_. So these phantom sensations were new and confusing to him, but after so long of feeling them he just chalked it up to the link he and Stiles shared. The boy would most likely still be healing from his own wounds.

 

Against his better judgement, Derek's thoughts drifted to Stiles often. Somehow, after everything that had happened the last time he had seen him, the one thing he kept going back to was the look on Stiles face when he had told Derek to leave. The pain reflected in his eyes had been crippling, and try as he might, Derek could not wipe the image from his mind. The knowledge that he had hurt Stiles made his wolf whine pitifully, desperate to set things right between them. Derek knew that Stiles didn't want him to leave, no matter what Stiles said. And honestly, Derek didn't  _want_ to leave. He just felt like he had to at this point. Things were so complicated between them. Even more so than they had been before. Derek often felt crippled while near Stiles, his thoughts and emotions stretched every which way. He was smart enough to know by now that his instincts and his mind were fighting with one another. Whenever he was around Stiles, while his body may rage with need, it also calmed. It was like a sense of peace came over him. A surety that Derek had never before felt. And that confused him. Derek understood now that he wanted Stiles in more than the most basic way. He wanted to just be near him. To be able to talk to him, touch him innocently, share a life with him. And that....that was not possible. That would never be possible. 

 

Derek was a walking, talking curse. Everyone he came to care for either died, or ended up betraying him, and some part of him knew that Stiles would never knowingly betray him, so that left something far more frightening and gut wrenching. 

 

Derek would not let Stiles get hurt because of him.

 

He cared for him too much.

 

So he would do the only thing he could think of. He'd leave. Hopefully with distance between them, their feelings would grow more dim. Not as overwhelming. And then Stiles could have a chance at a  _normal_ life. Derek knew that Stiles longed for that, no matter how much he tried to prove himself to the rest of them. It was the main reason he wanted to graduate and leave Beacon Hills. He needed to be somewhere where the supernatural were not always a threat. Somewhere he could experience normal things people his age did. And god Derek wanted him to experience them. He wanted him to have friends, to go to drunken dorm parties. To meet someone and be happy. Hell, even have his heart broken a few times. He wanted Stiles to grow older and find his place in the world of his own choosing. He wanted Stiles to find someone and grow old with them. Have kids. He would be an amazing dad. Hell he was so much like a child already, and Derek knew that part of him would never die. That laughing, joking innocence he had. The softness in his eyes that was completely open and bare. 

 

Derek was in love with him. The realization had always been there, at the back of his head, but fully admitting it now? It was the most painful ache he had ever experienced. Derek walked for hours more, his mind a chaotic mess, and when his emotions became too strong, he found himself stumbling down a deserted alley to change into his wolf form once again, and from then on the walked the town on four paws, keeping to the shadows to not cause alarm. It wasn't until the moon was high on the horizon that he finally made his way back to his car. His keys had been with his clothes, but he always kept a spare contained in a small magnetic box at the bottom of his car. After feeling around for the familiar thing and unlocking the doors, he slid in, grateful that the parking garage was empty. He carried spare clothes with him now out of habit, and changed into some replacement jeans and a tee shirt, starting his camero and heading back to the loft. 

 

Scott, his pack, and Argent were most likely still on patrol. It was all they did these days. All they would do until they found and defeated the Slaugh. In the beginning, Derek had wondered if he should just take Stiles and get him the hell out of Beacon Hills, wanting him away from the danger. But Stiles would have never left. He wasn't the type of person to leave his friends when the stakes were so high. Now, though, Derek wished he had just done it. It wasn't like he couldn't deal with the boy's wrath, and Derek half thought that John would have been grateful in the end. It was too late for that now. 

 

Derek wondered though how things between them would have been if he had. With only the two of them, would anything be different? Derek could see the appeal. Honestly he could. The idea of just he and Stiles on the open road, staying in run down motel's, eating disgusting greasy fast food, being stuck in the car for hours on end with stiles, the radio playing softly while the wind ran through their hair. Derek couldn't help it, he snorted in laughter, because as nice as that fantasy was, he knew that it was so far from the truth. Stiles would complain about the hotel room's and their bad service. He would tease Derek relentlessly about his aversion to grease, and jesus christ if Derek was in a car with Stiles for hours on end he would most likely want to kill himself. Still, as horrible as he honestly knew it would be, he couldn't help but long for it and wonder what it would have been like if they had met at a different time. A different place.

 

He still had no idea where he planned to go once he left Beacon Hills. In the beginning he had thought of going to visit Cora. But she was so happy now with her pack and Derek didn't want to ruin it with his gloom. Cause yeah, he was aware he carried around a majorly unhealthy dose of angst. He could go back to New York, but if he was being honest with himself he had never really liked the city. It was too crowded and would be even more so now that Derek felt the need to change into his wolf form and run. He knew he had to get out of California in the very least. A few states over at least, because if he was close enough, he would always be tempted to come back to Beacon Hills. Maybe Washington state. Hell maybe a little further up than that. Canada had always appealed to him. Then again so had the bayou's of Louisiana. In the end he guessed it was more so a question of if he wanted to freeze or sweat his ass off. 

 

By the time he got to his loft he had decided on either Quebec or New Orleans, but felt no sense of excitement or thrill, and knew that he wouldn't. He was leaving something he considered precious behind. It was never going to be anything but painful. Sighing Derek stepped out of his Camero and locked the door, stopping as he was pulling his key back out. He frowned deeply, his head tilting to the side as he scented the air. A familiar, intoxicating scent hit him, and he swore loudly. What the hell was Stiles doing here?! Jesus did he ever stop being idiotic? Derek was not picking up on the pack's scent, which meant that he had come alone. Growling low in his throat Derek followed the trail to the building, and as he went noticed that there was another smell mingled with Stiles. An unknown, but startling familiar scent that made no sense to him. And while he was confused over it, suddenly his wolf was clawing at his chest, fighting it's way towards surface. Derek gritted his teeth and rushed up the steps, forgetting the lift that would only slow him down. Was Stiles here with someone? Was that why his wolf was going crazy? Was he in danger? 

 

Derek took the stairs two at a time, his eyes shifting to their blue beta gaze and his claws sliding outwards When he ran through the door to his floor, and swung around the corner, he stumbled to a stop. The door to his loft was smashed. Broken into, wood littering the floor. It hung barely on it's hinges, and the scent of Stiles blood slammed into him like a train. Derek felt his body tremor, his fang's growing as a growl rose low in his throat. There was no sound coming from inside the loft but one, a heart beat. And it was fast. Too fast. Erratic. Derek could smell Stiles fear and again, there was a familiar scent that he could not place. But none of that mattered. Derek ripped the rest of the door off the hinges, tossing it aside easily as he barreled into the loft. His gaze jerked to every corner, searching the shadows. He felt a presence at his back then, and a moment later a threatening growl echo'd in the dark. Derek's wolf went nuts. He sucked in a gasp as he almost changed against his will, digging his claws into his palms to try and keep control. Turning slowly, his mouth parted on a soft exhale when he met glowing golden eyes, and a wolf stepped out of the shadows. 

 

It was gorgeous. It's fur's a striking multitude of pale cream, rust, and black, and even though it's lips were drawn back in a snarl, fang's flashing threateningly, Derek couldn't help the sense of awe that made his heart skip. In that moment all he wanted to do was change to his own wolf form, and rub his face all over the animal's thick fur. At the thought his wolf fought for supremacy once again, digging it's claws in deep, but Derek fought it off. For now at least. 

 

The wolf lowered it's head, it's ear's lying flat on it's head as it eyed him, and Derek recognized the stance, saw the tense stillness of it's limbs and lowered his own head, his eyes glowing blue. He let out an answering growl of his own, trying to get his message across to the animal, a subtle 'don't fuck with me'. If anything it had the opposite effect. The wolf released a series of short, snarled barks in defiance, it's fur standing on edge. And suddenly, that one act made everything click in Derek's brain. Stiles scent. The other scent that he couldn't quite place. Wolf. It was a combination of Stiles and wolf. Stiles  _was_ the wolf. Before he had time to do anything, Stiles' wolf form was racing towards him. Derek swore and held his hands up to ward off the worst of the attack, feeling fangs dig deep into his arm as he went down. He couldn't hurt Stiles, not really. Every instinct he had screamed otherwise, but he couldn't just lay there and let Stiles, who was most likely confused and afraid, just maul him to death. Gritting his teeth together he grabbed onto the wolf's neck with one hand, crying out as he ripped it away from his arm, trying to keep the animal's snapping jaw's clear of his face. "Stiles! Stiles calm down!"

 

When the wolf just continued trying to bite his face off, he realized that Stiles was too out of his mind to understand anything he said. Or at least anything he had to say in this form. Knowing what he had to do Derek sucked in a deep breath and threw Stiles as far away from him as he could, cringing when he heard him hit the wall on the other side of the room and yelp. Derek stood immediately, ripping his shirt off and kicking off his shoes. He had just pushed his pants down when Stiles stood again, shaking his furred head. And then his narrowed glare was on Derek again, his body tensing for another attack. Derek let the change take over him, feeling the rush of it as his bones broke swiftly all at once, and reformed almost instantly, thick black fur spreading across his body. And then he was going down, and landing on four paws. He felt a burst of joy at being in the form, and had to control himself from howling. In front of him, Stiles jumped backwards with a yip, his yellow eyes darting over Derek's new form a moment, and Derek thought he may have seen realization come into their light. 

 

Derek lowered his head, making a point to keep his ear's up as he took a hesitant step forward. Stiles' coppery ear's twitched, and he bared his teeth again, but at least did not growl. Derek desperately wished that he could talk somehow in this form, try to call out to Stiles, to make him understand - or at the very least calm down enough that Derek could explain what was happening. It was the link. There was no other explanation. Stiles had not been bitten, and even if he had it was highly unlikely that he would have transformed into a true wolf. So this thing that was between them had caused the change, and because Derek could change into a wolf, so could Stiles now. And it made sense that it had not happened until now, the night of the full moon. Derek gave an inward groan, because this complicated things greatly. No doubt when Stiles was back in his body he would have lot's to say about it. 

 

Derek took another step forward, making sure to keep eye contact light and nothing that would seem threatening or challenging. Apparently it didn't matter, though, and the next moment Stiles ears were flat against his head again and his jaw's were snapping the air in front of him. Against his better intentions Derek's wolf automatically rose up, instincts causing a snarled snap of his own. And then all hell broke lose. Stiles darted out in a blur and Derek barely managed to jerk his body aside and miss the deadly teeth reaching for his neck. He swung around before Stiles could stop and turn and barreled into his side, causing him to go down hard. Stiles jerked his head back, his jaw's reaching for Derek, but Derek hopped over his body and away from that mouth, and caging him in with his leg's, leaned forward and bit down on his shoulder.

 

Stiles released a high pitched yelp as his entire body trembled, fur shifting under Derek. Derek growled low, his teeth still on fur and skin and not yet letting go. He wasn't biting hard enough to truly hurt Stiles, just enough to let the boy know that he was the stronger of the two, and Stiles needed to realize that.  Then something started to happen. Derek felt the electricity in the air and huffed, the tingling dancing across his fur as well. He heard Stiles whine underneath him and suddenly the wolf was moving, stretching and it's fur receding. Derek shut his eyes and let the change take over him too, and when he next opened them he was crouched over Stiles, and they were both breathing hard. Stiles whimpered, shifting slightly until he was on his side under Derek, he looked up, looking around the loft a moment before his still slightly glowing yellow eyes turned up to Derek. He looked at him in confusion a moment before his eyes grew large, and the next thing Derek new a hand was slamming into his nose and Stiles was trying to scurry away on his hands and knees.

 

Derek hissed, but reached out and grabbed onto Stiles ankle, dragging him back to him. Stiles cried out, twisting to his back. Derek saw the boy's eyes glow yellow again just before a foot connected with his face and Stiles was crawling away. This time something deep inside of Derek just... _shifted_. Clicked into place. His wolf panted inside of him and Derek growled, his eyes going blue as he leapt forward and landed on Stiles. Stiles starting fighting immediately, jerking around with a hiss and elbowing Derek on the side of the head. Derek grunted from the force of it and the next thing he knew Stiles was pushing him over and Derek found himself flat on his back, Stiles straddling him and his glowing yellow eyes directly in Derek's face, his fangs out as he roared so loud that Derek's ear's popped. Derek felt a shock shoot through his system and his dick twitch, and baring his own fangs he shot out his hand and grabbed Stiles by the back of his neck, dragging him backwards so Derek could sit up and then Derek's own roar filled the loft, so loud that it caused the glass of the windows to shake. Stiles jolted against him, his eyes shooting wide, and Derek saw the way his pupils exploded in lust. Stiles was still a moment, seemingly in a daze, and then he was jerking backwards, off of Derek and making a run for it. 

 

It was an age old game that Derek's wolf knew well, and with a growl he jerked to his feet and caught the boy before he could reach the open doorway of the loft, pushing him down to the ground on his knee's, wrapping a hand around his neck and keeping him still. Stiles went tense, and released a choked groan as chill's spread across his body. 

 

"STOP. RUNNING." Derek managed to bite out, feeling on the edge of losing it, his chest rising and falling in sharp gasps against Stiles back.

 

But because Stiles is Stiles, of course the boy would not listen. He grew taunt just a second before trying to twist around, to fight off Derek again. Derek tightened his hold on his neck with a growl in his ear, and felt the shiver that ran over Stiles skin. Still he struggled, jerking his elbow back trying to connect with Derek. Derek grabbed it with his free hand and jerked it behind his back, shoving Stiles face first against the floor. Stiles whimpered, but made no further attempt to escape.

 

This was not punishment. This was not Derek abusing Stiles in any way. This was two wolfs fighting for dominance. It was instinctual and raw, and Derek could not stop himself even if he tried. The scent of their arousal was heavy in the air, and a fine sheen of sweat had broken out on both of their bare skins. Derek closed his eyes and took a deep drag of Stiles, his dick straining painfully. He moved closer, pressing against Stiles vulnerable ass which made the boy whimper again, begin to shake just slightly.

 

" _Derek_."

 

Stiles voice was low and choked, heavy with need and wisps of confusion and slight fear, and it was a combination that had Derek's own wolf whimpering in need. He released Stiles arm and lowered his hand to grip the boy's hip, his claws digging in slightly. Stiles pushed back instinctively against him, and Derek groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head when his cock brushed along the underside of Stiles balls and penis. The urge to claim Stiles slammed into him with dizzying force, and Derek released Stiles neck, grabbing onto both his hips and grinding against him. Stiles sucked in a gasp, and Derek eyed him through a narrowed gaze, his jaw tight as he fought for control. "Have to be still." Derek growled out, even as he ground himself against Stiles ass again. "If not.....gonna lose it...."

 

Stiles lust peaked even higher, a painful aphrodisiac to Derek's senses, sending him overboard and dangerously close to that line he was tiptoeing on. He had to calm down, before he lost himself completely. In his state of mind he would not be able to be gentle. He would just  _take_. Would claim what was his. But then suddenly Stiles released a shaky breath, his shoulders tensing a moment. And then his head dropped and tilted to the side, his neck bare and offering. Suddenly that line crumbled and Derek passed the point of no return.

 

Stiles cried out as he was suddenly lifted off of the floor. Derek felt him flail a moment, trying to latch onto something solid, but Derek was already in one of the guest rooms. He threw Stiles on the bed and was on him in a second. Stiles gasped as he laid flush against his back, and then again when Derek reached under him and jerked Stiles hips up. The boy reached out, his fist's clenching into the cover's, his eyes wide and slightly wild. Before Derek was completely lost, he managed to insert two fingers into his own mouth, rolling his tongue around them a moment before pulling them away and slicking his saliva against Stiles puckered hole. Stiles yelped at the sudden sensation, his spine shooting rigid. As Derek rubbed his fingers against him he cried out, his mouth opening obscenely, his cheek pressed flat against the sheets. Derek growled at the sight, and then reached between them to grasp his straining length, heavy with precum.  He pressed it against Stiles and felt the boy still, heard his sharp inhale and the stutter of his heart beat. Needing to touch the boy, try to reassure him (and maybe himself as well), Derek laid his hand flat against Stiles back, and then with a careful breath pushed forward. 

 

Stiles cried out immediately, his hands fisting in the sheet's. Derek lowered his head with a gasp, closing his eyes and pausing a moment, his body struggling with the urge to slam himself as deep as possible within Stiles. He began to move his hand on Stiles back, trying to offer him comfort, let him know that it was okay, and after a moment Stiles relaxed slightly under him, his cries dying off to soft whimper's. Derek slid forward more, groaning at the overwhelming hotness. The tight cling that had his balls drawing up. Stiles shivered under him, his body beginning to tremble slightly as he struggled to take all of Derek's length, and when Derek was finally seated fully, his hips pressing against the soft skin of the underside of Stiles thighs, he had to fight not to cum right then and there. Stiles was still under him, drawn tight again, and Derek could smell the pain lingering within his lust. Needing to make the boy feel better somehow the trailed his hand past his hip and waist, until he had Stiles hard cock in his hand. Stiles cried out immediately, his hips jerking in a way that made both of them draw off on a moan. Derek swirled circles over the head of his penis, precum making his thumb wet and hot. 

 

Stiles began to move under him then, just slight twitches as his body fought for something that he most likely couldn't even name, and then more fully, pressing back against Derek's dick with a whimper, stretching his back in such a delicious display that Derek felt his fangs aching to dig into his skin. "Derek. I need -  _please_. Need you to move." He drew out almost mindlessly, his voice muffled by the bed.

 

Derek squeezed his hand around his cock, pumping slightly at the base, causing Stiles to cry out again. "Do I feel good inside of you?" The words left his mouth without any real warning, but Derek let them go, too far gone himself.

 

Stiles moaned, pressing his hips back again and then pulling forward slightly. Derek shut his eyes on a groan at the sensation of his dick sliding outwards against Stiles' clenching walls, and trailed his hand down to grab Stiles hip, his other still pumping his cock. " _Oh god yes_. Need more."

 

Derek pulled his hips back more, until he was almost completely free of Stiles. He heard Stiles whimper under him, try to scoot himself backwards so he didn't free himself of Derek. Derek dug his hand into Stiles hip and held him still, growling down in warning at him. Stiles immediately turned his head again, baring his throat, and the sight pleased Derek so much that he surged into the boy. They cried out together, and Derek could not hold back anymore. His hips slammed back and forth in hard, fast movements, and before long Stiles was moving restlessly underneath him, his voice growing louder and more choked.

 

" _Yes. Yes. Oh, fuck Derek!"_

 

Derek growled each time Stiles cried out his name, a wave of possessiveness washing over him, and before he knew what he was doing he was bending over the boy's back, and had his teeth in his shoulder. Stiles gasped, and a moment later Derek felt his dick begin to twitch in his hand, and then Stiles was whimpering and muttering incoherently underneath him, and Derek felt as he came, hot spurts against his fingers. Derek growled and bit down harder, his hips jerking back and forth madly, and Stiles cried out even more, his body writhing madly as Derek finally felt pleasure shoot low in his belly and then he was cumming inside of Stiles. He pulled away with a roar, his hips buckling unevenly. In his haze he wasn't aware of what was happening next until Stiles pain filled cry echo'd in his ears. Derek tried to push past his daze and make sense of it, even as Stiles was suddenly trying to squirm out from under him. Every instinct Derek had told him to dig his claws into Stiles hips and hold him still, and he pressed his weight down against Stiles, stilling his movements. Derek realized then with slight horror what was happening. He was knotting Stiles. He drew back slightly with wide eyes, looking down and seeing his even now growing knot which had managed to slip out of Stiles as the boy pulled away. He should let him. Let go of Stiles and let him get away. Derek knew what knotting meant, and he couldn't do that to Stiles. 

 

But he  _wanted_ to. He wanted to make Stiles his completely. In the end, he had little time to decide, because his knot was growing by the second, and if he waited too much longer he would seriously hurt Stiles if he tried to push it in. He dropped his forehead to Stiles back. "I'm so sorry." He whispered before pushing forward again. He felt the resistance and heard Stiles painfully cry out again, and Derek tightened his grip on his hips to keep the boy still, grinding his teeth and pushing forward until he popped through and seated himself deep again. He whispered in Stiles ear, trying to calm him down and kissed alongside his face, wrapping his arms around him and carefully maneuvering them until they were on their sides, Stiles pulled against his back. All the while Derek continued to shoot his seed into him, feeling when his knot grew to it's full girth inside of Stiles. Unable to help himself he shifted slightly, and groaned at the near painful tightness clenched around him. Stiles cries had softened into a faint whimper, and Derek lifted his hand to run over the boy's skin, trying to calm him down. He knew that the actual pain was over, now that Derek had pushed past his entrance, but his width was still no doubt uncomfortable, and though he felt guilty over causing Stiles discomfort, a part of him was howling in victory.

 

He had knotted Stiles without even intending to, which meant only one thing. His wolf had claimed Stiles. Completely. And the boy was now his.

 

 

*******************************

 

 

Stiles woke up what felt like hours later, but was really only minutes. He hadn't even been aware he had drifted off. He felt Derek stir behind him, his arm wrapping around his middle tight, and Stiles broke down.

 

He tried to curl in on himself, but felt pain shoot through him from low in his body and cried out, stilling. He felt Derek pulsing inside of him still, and remembered what had happened. From changing into a wolf, to making his way to Derek's loft in a frenzy. And then fighting Derek. But it hadn't really been fighting. It had been something else. Something that felt old and instinctive. After the struggle Stiles had all but given himself to Derek, baring his neck and practically begging. For some reason the thought did not shame him. It had been natural.  _Right_. So why did his heart hurt so much? Stiles felt panicked, pushed to a corner with nowhere to go but straight through his enemy. And this time, his enemy was the truth.  _  
_

 

He was in love with Derek Hale. 

 

Admitting it was so incredibly freeing, yet somehow stabbed him, and he began to cry, silent sobs that shook his body.  _Hurts, oh god it hurts_.

 

He hadn't been aware he had spoken out loud until Derek was quieting him gently, and he felt the older man's palm against his sweaty forehead and over his eyes, and was pulling his head back slightly. He felt Derek lean above him and trail kisses over his cheek and chin, and along his neck, and shivered, his tear's spilling onto Derek's fingers. 

 

He could feel where he and Derek were joined still, and couldn't help but shift slightly, gasping when he felt a combination of pleasure and pain shoot through him. Derek grunted behind him, still a moment, before moving as well, just the slightest bit. Even still, Stiles felt his swell even larger inside of him and whimpered. Derek reached around him and palmed his cock, which was already growing hard again. He laid there on his side, whimpering and continuously moving his hips in short, jerking movements as Derek jacked him off, and when he came again, he felt himself clenching down hard on Derek's knot, and his released was laced with the slightest bit of pain. Stiles felt like it fit them perfectly.

 

************************************

 

Stiles continued to drift in and out of consciousness. He woke once as Derek was pulling out of him. He heard his own soft whimper but then Derek's arms were drawing him in tight to the werewolf's heat, and Stiles was under again.

 

 When next he woke, it was to Derek pulling him up gently from the bed. Stiles moaned, blinking open tired eyes and seeing the loft filled with light. He had no idea what time it was, but in that moment didn't care. All he wanted was sleep. Plus he pretty much felt like his ass was going to fall off it hurt so much.

 

"What you doing?" He slurred softly, laying his cheek against Derek's shoulder.

 

Derek leaned forward and kissed his brow, and Stiles sighed softly at the touch. "Getting us in the shower. Hot water will make you feel better."

 

"Sleep will make me feel better." He argued lightly.

 

"You can sleep when we're done." Derek murmured, carrying him to the bathroom and somehow starting the water while holding Stiles as well. Once they were in the tub he lowered Stiles carefully, but Stiles cringed regardless, pain shooting low in his body. 

 

Stiles saw a look of pure guilt cross Derek features and laid his fingertips over his mouth, shaking his head softly. "Stop. Don't."

 

Derek huffed slightly and pulled them under the spray, and Stiles all but moaned at the sensation of the hot water on him. "Don't what?"

 

"Feel bad." Stiles whispered, wrapping his arms around Derek and laying his head on his shoulder. "It's okay."

 

"Stiles, I all but forced you to have sex-" Derek drew off with a slight yelp when Stiles bit down hard on his collar bone. He looked down at the boy's head with wide eyes. "What do you think you're doing?"

 

"Trying to make you stop saying stupid things. You didn't force me to do anything, Derek. I wanted to have sex with you. I  _still_ want to have sex with you. And let me tell you with as much pain I'm in right now that's really saying something." Stiles realized immediately those were the wrong words to say when Derek's expression shut down. He groaned, laying his forehead against his chest. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm bad at this, okay? I just....Derek I'm glad it happened. I kind of think it  _needed_ to happen, if that makes any sense."

 

Derek stilled at that, his eyes shifting, but he gaze a slight nod. "It makes sense."

 

"Good. So please stop feeling like you have something to be ashamed of. Because I don't know about you, but feel like there are more pressing issues at hand. For instant the fact that I turned into a wolf."

 

Derek smiled against his hair. "You were beautiful."

 

Stiles felt a flush spread over his skin and couldn't hold back the sense of pride. "Really? Maybe I should take a look in a mirror next time, huh?"

 

Derek laughed, shaking his head as he bent and picked up some body wash and a loufa. "Also, don't worry. I've already sent your dad a message and let him know you are with me."

 

Stiles' eyes widened as Derek began to softly wash his back. "Oh my god I didn't even think of that. Derek he's going to be so mad. What did you tell him?"

 

"The truth. That because of our link you changed and it was just instinct to seek me out. I told him that at the time you weren't really in the right mind, that you were more animal than anything. He was pretty pissed but in the end understood."

 

"He's going to be totally freaked out that I'm a freaking werewolf now."

 

"If you are a werewolf."

 

Stiles pulled away at that, frowning up at him. "What do you mean? Dude I turned into a wolf. I'd think that's pretty explanatory in itself."

 

"Not necessarily. This link between us is complicated. I don't know if I would go so far as to say your genetic makeup has changed. We don't know if you would be able to shift whenever you wanted, or if it just happens on the full moon, and that's because that is the time when I feel the pull the most. Plus while you may have some increased abilities now, you still can't heal." As if to prove a point Derek looked down at Stiles chest, where the wounds were pink and almost completely healed, but still there.

 

Stiles sighed, shaking his head. "This is too complicated."

 

"Didn't you just say the other day it's always complicated with us?"

 

Stiles stilled, and so did Derek. He stared at his neck a moment before swallowing hard. "Please tell me you're not still leaving after this."

 

Derek was quiet a moment, running the soft loufa along Stiles arm and shoulder, until finally meeting the other boy's gaze. "No."

 

Stiles closed his eyes and released the air in his lungs. He laid his head back on Derek's shoulder and just clung to him, and after a moment Derek dropped the loufa and returned the embrace, the hot water running over both of them. "Even if it's just because we have sex, I'm still happy."

 

Derek didn't say anything, too afraid to tell him the truth. He had knotted Stiles. His wolf looked at Stiles as a mate. Even if he wanted, he would never be able to leave the boy's side. They stayed in the shower a long while, until the water had run cold, and then Derek shut it off and dried them both off with a towel, and with Stiles in his arms again carried them to his own bed upstairs. He laid him down and Stiles buried his face in Derek's pillow, inhaling deep, and Derek growled at the sight. Laying there in the light Derek could see the bruises left behind on the pale skin of Stiles back, and felt guilt wash over him again. Stiles turned his head to the side and frowned up at him.

 

"Hey. I said stop that already. I can feel it too, you know." 

 

Derek sighed, lifting out a hand and grazing a fingertip along the bruise closest to him, in the small of Stiles back. "I can't help it. I hate that I did this to you."

 

"Derek, honestly, I hardly felt it when it happened."

 

Derek knew he was telling the truth, but he still hated it. Moving onto the bed he kneeled over Stiles, who was looking over his shoulder at him with a slight frown. Derek searched his eyes a moment before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss to the largest bruise on Stiles shoulder, right where his neck met his collarbone. Stiles sucked in a sharp breath, a tingle shooting through him.

 

"What are you doing?"

 

"Kissing it and making it better." Derek said, though his voice didn't hold any sense of laughter.

 

Stiles' frown deepened and he opened his mouth to say something else, but then Derek's tongue was tracing over the bruise, and he drew off with a groan, closing his eyes as his cock twitched. Derek laved the bruise bruise a long moment, before Stiles felt him drawn back and he released a sigh. He was about to roll over but then he felt Derek scoot downwards and suddenly his mouth was on his back. Stiles jerked slightly, shutting his eyes again. "You seriously don't have to do this. It's not like you have healing saliva or something."

 

He heard Derek chuckle against his skin, and the feeling of his hot breath sent shivers down his spine. "You saying it doesn't feel good?"

 

Stiles pursed his lips against the pillow, narrowing his gaze. "Fine. It feel's good. You happy now?"

 

"Not yet." Derek growled against him as his tongue moved lower still, to a small bruise right on the bottom of his spine. He felt Stiles twitch when he slid the flat of his tongue against the spot, and after a moment a snort came out of him and he was twisting against the sheets, trying to get away. 

 

"Okay, okay enough!"

 

Derek grinned wolfishly, holding onto his thighs to keep him in place. "Are you ticklish?"

 

Stiles glared over his shoulder at him. "I will geld you I swear."

 

"I find that hard to believe considering you like my cock so much."

 

The words were so shocking coming out of Derek's mouth and Stiles just laid there, staring at him with wide eyes, his face on fire. Derek's mouth was on him again though - on that same spot - and it didn't matter anymore because he was squirming again, screeching at Derek to stop through high pitched laughter. Derek finally pulled away with a satisfied grin, before tilting his head a bit to kiss alongside his left hip, where a bruise was from where the wolf had clawed into him. Stiles laughter died with a groan, and he curled his hands in the bed sheet's under the pillow, laying his cheek against the coolness. Derek moved over to his other hip after a few minutes, lazily trailing his tongue along the skin and it felt so good that Stiles shut his eyes, his breathing now ragged and his dick hard between his stomach and the bed. He whimpered slightly, unable to help himself from pressing down into the bed to try and ease some of the tension.

 

Derek lifted off of him again, and Stiles thought he was about to come lay beside him when suddenly he felt the wolf's hands spreading him. He sucked in a gasp, his back growing rigid and his eyes jerking open. He lay there a moment, tense, before chancing a glance over his shoulder. Derek was staring down at his twitching hole with a look of pure hunger that made him almost dizzy. Stiles swallowed hard, feeling completely vulnerable under his stare. "Derek." He drew out, and wasn't sure if it was a plea to stop, or for more. Derek's gaze lifted to lock with his, then, and Stiles found himself shaken by the intensity in the man's eyes. Feeling slightly helpless Stiles laid his head back on the pillow with a whimper. He heard Derek growl out behind him before he felt Derek bend forward and then the man's tongue was on him. Stiles released a throaty cry, spreading his leg's wider and trying to keep his hips still as Derek lapped at him. Every porn he had ever watched was playing in his head, and the fact that Stiles was actually getting to live one of his biggest fantasies made feel even more hot and needy. When he couldn't take it anymore he pushed back against Derek, which only seemed to please the wolf because he growled against him and that rumbling vibration against his body was nearly orgasmic and went straight to his dick, making precum leak out helplessly. "Oh my god. Can't believe this is happening." He gasped out, back arching.

 

Derek growled against Stiles, the taste of him on his tongue driving him near wild. He couldn't get enough. Using his thumbs he spread Stiles open and slid his tongue inside his clenching hole, hearing Stiles gasp weakly against the pillow, and the sound made his cock grow so hard it was almost painful. He swirled his tongue around, pressing his face close, trying to get as deep as possible while Stiles pushed back against his face. Derek drew back slightly and Stiles cried out in protest, but he quieted him when he slid a finger inside of him, gliding it in and out easily, watching with fascination the way the boy swallowed him. He added a second finger, and tilted his wrist a bit as he began to move the fingers inside of Stiles, searching for that one spot. He knew he had found it when Stiles' arched his back and he let out a gutted cry, chills shooting over his skin. Derek growled, pleased, and lowered his head angling it to lick the underside of Stiles balls. The sound that came out of the boy's throat then was something straight out of a porn, and he began twisting against the sheet's madly, begging and demanding all at once.

 

When Derek couldn't hold back any more he straightened and flipped Stiles over to his back, the boy reaching for him immediately. Derek pulled his hips up as Stiles wrapped his arms around his neck and then he was sliding into him. Their moans spilled from their throats at the same time. Derek allowed a moment for Stiles to get accustomed to him, and when he couldn't wait any longer he drew back, hissing when Stiles clamped around him, eagerly trying to keep him inside of him. "Why were we not doing this before." Derek all but growls into his ear.

 

Stiles gives a weak laugh, his arms tightening around Derek's neck as his hips move, pulling the wolf back in. "Because we're dumbasses."

 

Derek grunted in agreement and leaned back. He wrapped an arm around Stiles thigh, cocking it high as he dove into him hard, making Stiles gasp and arch his back. The need for skin to skin contact was driving Derek insane, and he pressed down against Stiles chest, his hips finding a frenzied rhythm  that left them both restless. Stiles hands were grabbing at his back, sliding over sleek muscles and sweat coated skin, and then lower to his ass, and Derek growled when he squeezed each cheek. 

 

"Need more." Derek breathed, leaning down and sliding his tongue up Stiles neck. Stiles tilted his head up to give him more access, his hands jerking in his hair now.

 

"Yes. More..."

 

Ripping away with a growl Derek sat back, pulling Stiles with him until he was in his lap. Stiles gasped out at the new position that made Derek go even deeper in him, his hands clenching on the wolf's shoulders. Their eyes met then, and as they did it was like something shifted, something soft whispering against their skins and filling both their chest's with warmth. Stiles gaze lowered from Derek's gorgeous eyes to his lips briefly before settling once again on his gaze. Derek breathed out softly against Stiles face, drawing him in closer until their lips were all but touching. He searched Stiles eyes, his hand trailing up to rest on his neck, his thumb spread over his jaw. Stiles hand on his shoulder slowly lifted until it was buried deep in Derek's hair at the base of his neck.

 

The first touch of their lips was nothing more than a soft grazing. Hardly there at all. They both drew back afterwards, looking at once another again, as if searching for something. After only a few seconds, they seemed to have discovered it. Stiles lips parted again on a soft inhale, and Derek's eyes turned slightly desperate, and then they were kissing again. It was slow. It was soft. And neither one of them had expected it. The only time they had kissed had been when Stiles was drunk, and that kiss had been frantic, wild. This kiss was anything but. It was like a silent acknowledgement. A coming home. And they both found their chest's straining full from it. Stiles began to move again, soft almost lazy roll's of his hips that left them both breathless. Derek's hands were gentle on him, not wanting to harm the bruised skin further. His large hands splayed over Stiles ass and softly urged him on, pressing with movement of the boy. Stiles hands gripped at his hair as he moaned into Derek's ear, and Derek didn't mind the sometimes painful tug. Actually took pleasure from it. He buried his face at the crook of Stiles neck and inhaled deep, wrapping an arm tight around the boy's frame and pressing them as close together as possible. He could feel Stiles hard length caged between both their bodies, the slick wetness leaking from the head. He knew Stiles was close, could feel it with the tenseness of his body, the way his arms had begun to shake softly. Derek lifted his hips and quickened their movements a bit, hearing Stiles gasp out as his body bobbed up and down on top of Derek's. 

 

"Come for me, Stiles."

 

Stiles moaned, laying his forehead against Derek's at his words. Their breath's mingled together again, a teasing caress against each other's skins that had them seeking out the other's mouth's again, and while the kiss was more desperate this time, there was still something soft about it. 

 

Derek felt the moment Stiles came; the boy crying out into his mouth and his back arching, while his dick jerked between their bodies, hot semen shooting over their chest's and stomach's. As Stiles rode it out Derek pumped his hips a few more times, hard and fast, and then he was stumbling along with him, breaking away from Stiles mouth with a groan, his head tipping back and his eyes closing tight as he spilled into him. For a long moment they just sat like that, arms around each other, chest's touching, still connected. And then finally Derek lowered Stiles to his back, and slid out of him carefully. He collapsed beside Stiles, who immediately turned on his side and scooted closer to Derek. Derek drew him in eagerly, burying his face against his neck and wrapping an arm around him. 

 

After a few minutes Stiles shifted against him. "Are we going to talk about the fact that you knotted me last night?"

 

Derek closed his eyes with a slight groan. Of course the boy would know what knotting meant. "I didn't think you were aware of what that is, but I realize now that was a dumb assumption of me."

 

"Well my best friend is a werewolf. It's kind of my job to look up everything on you guys I can."

 

Derek gave slight nod against his skin. "And what did you find?"

 

Stiles stilled, licking his lips nervously. "That basically werewolves only do it when they are mating. Which is apparently different than sex."

 

Derek nodded again. "And what do you know about mating?"

 

"Just that sex and mating is different for werewolves. Mating is something much more...serious. I think."

 

"Don't worry, Stiles. You're not going to say the wrong thing. You're right." Derek sighed, tightening his hold against him. "When a werewolf mates they knot. And they don't knot unless they are serious about someone. Unless there are real....feelings, involved."

 

Stiles was silent a moment, thinking of his words. "So why didn't you knot me this time? Not that I'm complaining much. I'm not sure I could do that twice in a row."

 

"It won't happen every time. I more or less have better control over it after the first time it happens. The first time is just more like a....an instinctual thing from my wolf. It's like a claiming."

 

Again, Stiles thought a moment before speaking, and by the time he finally did, his heart was pounding hard in his chest. "So...you're serious, then? About me?"

 

Derek shut his eyes, breathing against Stiles neck a moment. "I've had...feelings, for you for a while now, Stiles. And my wolf longer than that."

 

Stiles frowned at that, turning his head to look at Derek. "What do you mean by that?"

 

"Do you remember that night at Lydia's? When I--"

 

"When you tried to bite my head off? Yeah."

 

Derek glared slightly. "No. I was trying to claim you that night. Well, my wolf was at least. I honestly didn't mean for it to happen. You just showed up at the loft a few day's before that and smelled...really good." At Stiles arched brow he shook his head with a huff. "You just - I don't know Stiles there was something different about you. Or maybe there wasn't. Maybe I had changed somehow. Either way, at that moment I wanted to claim you. I went to see Deaton and he more or less told me the exact same thing. That once I changed into a true wolf my instincts were were much more basic and animal like. Apparently my wolf really wanted you."

 

Stiles couldn't keep the smug grin from his face. "Damn, Derek. Maybe you should have just told me that to begin with instead of trying to maul me to death. I've wanted a piece of your ass for months now. Hell, most likely years if I'm being honest."

 

Derek rolled his eyes, but laughed softly, turning Stiles face back against the pillow. Stiles laughed at him, catching his hand and pulling it around his middle. 

 

"So does this mean you want to date me?"

 

Derek blew out a puff of air. "As much as I've always hated that word, yes, Stiles. I want to date you."

 

Stiles grinned against the pillow, twirling his hips a bit like he was dancing. "You wanna be my booooyfriend."

 

"Stiles."

 

"You wanna huuuuug me. And you wanna kiiiiiiss me."

 

"I swear to god if you don't stop...."

 

"....Wanna put your diiiiiiick in me...."

 

Derek clamped his hand over Stiles mouth with a glare, jumping slightly when Stiles traced his tongue on his palm. He glared down to see a devious grin in the boy's eyes and pulled his hand away with a sigh. "Why do I feel like you're going to be the death of me one day?"

 

"Aww, don't say that Sourwolf. Besides. If anyone's killing anyone, you're gonna be the one killing me. I mean have you  _seen_ your dick? How that thing hasn't ripped through my spleen yet I'll never know."

 

Derek groaned again, burying his face in the pillow while Stiles laughed beside him. He had begun to wonder lately what he and Stiles would be like if they ever did figure out what was going on between them, and now Derek knew that it would be exactly the same as it had always been.

 

For some reason, that wasn't a bad thing. 

****************************************

 

just a pic of what I imagine Stiles to look like as a wolf :)

 

[](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/stileswolf_zpsjqx1y9el.jpg.html)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omgomgomgomg yes yes yes i wrote this chapter all day haha i kept getting too worked up and had to go away for a bit to cool off :P cause ima loser.


	49. The Last Night Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of a 2 part chapter. ONLY 3 MORE CHAPTERS TO GO!!! :O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omgah peoples. It's coming. It's almost here. The end. Or the beginning of the end. Whatever. Only a few more chapters. I'M FREAKING OUT!!! 
> 
> :O
> 
> But that aside....It really just struck me that it took 48 chapters for Derek & Stiles to have sex lmao dude....I deserve a slap for that haha why the H.E. Double Hockeysticks you guy's sick around with me that long without any sexy time lol Guess I should say thanks for your own weirdness :P

When Stiles wakes up he's alone. He tries not to put too much thought into that, instead sitting up with a groan and very carefully getting out of bed. The sun's high in the sky through the large window, and Stiles figures it's most likely midday. He shift's a bit unsteadily on his feet before slowly making his way to the dresser and pulling out some sweat's and a T-shirt, hoping that Derek won't mind too much. Realizing that his body is pretty much covered in semen, he doesn't want to put the cloths on now, so instead grab's the sheet from the bed and wraps it around him. He makes his way down the spiral stairs and quietly moves to the living room, poking his head around the corner. There's no one there. Frowning he is about to head to the guest room's when he hear's movement in the kitchen. Figuring it's Derek he stands there a moment, trying to gather his courage, and head's in. Instead he finds Lydia sitting at the kitchen table with Parrish, the two of them drinking coffee. Parrish is leaned close to Lydia, whispering something in her ear, and she break's off into soft laughter, shaking her head. She looks up then, and notices Stiles, a grin pulling her lips. 

 

"You're awake."

 

Parrish turns to look at him. The deputy takes in his appearance with slightly wide eyes and clear's his throat, putting on a small, if not slightly uncomfortable smile. "Morning."

 

Stiles feel's his face heat up and pull's the sheet tighter around him, hoping that his junk isn't showing through some slit. "Hey. What are you guys doing here? Where's Derek?" His heart does this stupid thing where it speed's up when he says the older werewolf's name.

 

"He went to go grab everyone some food. The pack's on their way. I brought you some of your clothes to change into. Figured you'd need them after getting butt naked in the woods outside the police station."

 

Stiles groans, and follow's Lydia's hand to where a spare change of clothes are neatly laid out on one of the chairs. "That really happened, huh?"

 

"Oh yeah. You're dad loved it." She gave a sarcastic eyeroll.

 

"You have no idea how much he was freaking out when we found your clothes." Parrish added, an amused grin on his face. "I just thought you were a habitual streaker or something. Oh, hey. I brought your phone."

 

Stiles sighed gratefully as the man pulled his cell from his pocket and sat it with the clothes. He moved to pick them up, switching them out with Derek's clothes. "No I'm saving that for my drunken college days. Don't worry, not much longer though."

 

Lydia snorted at him, her sly eyes moving over him. "So....."

 

Stiles gave an inward sigh and stared down at her dryly. "So."

 

"Did the two of you finally decide to stop being idiots and admit you like each other?"

 

Stiles wanted to scoff and roll his eyes at her, to tell her she was crazy, but could only smile slightly. "Yeah. Yeah I guess we did."

 

"Good." The banshee's smile turned sweet, sincere, and Stiles finally turned away when he felt himself grinning like an idiot. 

 

"Ima go shower. Parrish my man watch out for that one. She's vicious."

 

Parrish laughed behind him, and Stiles heard the unmistakable sounds of soft murmur's and kissing. He quickly ran a shower in the bathroom and then let the sheet fall to the floor. Before he hopped in the tub though he glanced at his reflection in the mirror and let out a choked gasp. Holy fucking shit. It looked like Derek had abused him, not absolutely rocked his world last night/this morning. He was covered in bruises, most small and widely placed. But the one on his neck? Holy shit there was no way possible he was going to be able to cover that up. All the make up in the world would not be enough. He turned his body slightly, glancing towards his back, and hissed when he saw the bruise went from the side of his neck and down to this shoulder, spreading barely to his back. He lifted a tentative hand and brushed it with his fingertips, hissing when it began to ache. Jesus. How the hell had he not felt  _that_ when it was happening? Sure, he remembered Derek's mouth clamping onto him, remembered the fleeting sensation of pain, but it hadn't felt anything like what had to have caused something so large. "So like you, Stiles. Brain so stupid on lust that you can't feel anything else." It wasn't a bad thing, really. The exact opposite, actually. Looking at it though, the visible teeth marks, Stiles felt a sudden wave of something roll over him. A sense of possessiveness that really made him want to leave a similar mark on Derek. It made no sense and he quickly brushed it aside before finally entering the shower. He washed slowly, savoring the hot water on his aching skin. His shower turned slightly awkward though when he gingerly cleaned off the part of him that ached the most, and then even more so when he felt something sticky and thick cascade out of him. Realizing it was Derek's cum he had to lay his head on the shower wall a full five minutes to keep himself together as the fluid trailed down his thighs. In the end he took advantage of the fact that the loft was presently free of werewolves and pumped himself until his cum added to the mix at his feet, swirling down the drain. His cheek's flush and eyes glassy Stiles finished washing as best as his shaky hands and legs would allow before climbing out, drying himself off almost mindlessly and pulling on his clothes. He did snap out of it enough to notice Lydia had also picked out his favorite pair of Batman boxers and snorted at the image of the girl digging through his underwear drawer. 

 

When he was dressed and felt slightly more refreshed and not so sore he headed out of the bathroom and padded back into he kitchen barefoot, grinning as Lydia didn't even glance up from her phone to hand him a cup of coffee. He took it from her with a soft thank you and leaned against the counter, taking a sip of the stuff, smiling to himself when he noticed that it was deliciously flavored with....chocolate mint? Look's like Derek had caved and brought some yummy creamer for the kids. He was pouring his second cup of the stuff when he felt the hair's on the back of his neck stand on end and something inside of him shift slightly. Frowning, he tilted his head to the side just as he heard the door to the loft opening, and then his heart started beating quickly in his chest. 

 

"You're back! I'd like my food now, please." Lydia chirped.

 

Stiles turned his body slightly, glancing up to see Derek standing in the opening of the kitchen, bag's of take out in his hand. Stiles stood there stupidly as their eyes locked, his hand still on the coffee pot from where he had been about to pour him another drink. He felt a slight tremor shoot through his body and inhaled softly, watching how Derek's eyes darkened before they lowered, stopping at the mark on his neck and the wolf growled softly before returning his lazy once over, his gaze covering every inch of Stiles, all the way to his feet. And damn, Stiles had no idea what the man was doing but somehow Derek's lustful eyes even made his freaking feet feel sexy and he shifted slightly, licking his lips. Derek's eyes finally started their climb back up his body, stopping at all the right spots, and when their eyes finally met again he felt breathless, his body tingling.

 

Parrish clearing his throat finally broke the spell. Stiles jolted slightly, glancing back to see the deputy looking fairly uncomfortable, while Lydia just rolled her eyes before returning to her phone. Feeling his face heat up Stiles returned to shakily pouring his cup of coffee. "You want some?" He asked Derek, glancing over his shoulder at him briefly. Even still, the contact was enough to cause another shiver to shoot up his spine and Stiles had to get some control and fast because the last thing he wanted was a raging boner in front of Parrish and Lydia.

 

"Sure." Derek bit out a bit too gruffly before putting the bag's on the table. Lydia reached in immediately and pulled out her chicken salad, reaching in again and sitting a burger in front of Parrish, who grinned and kissed her lightly on the brow before beginning to unwrap his food.

 

Stiles pulled down another coffee mug and filled it, returning to the table to pull out a seat. He slid the black coffee over to Derek, who sat down across from him with a 'thanks'. Stiles nodded in reply and sipped his coffee, feeling slightly nervous and shy all of a sudden. Lydia poked him in the ribs and pointed at the bags as she took a delicate bite of the chicken salad and he pursed his lips at her before pulling one of the bags to him and taking a peek inside. He grabbed the first greasy burger he could see and then gave a little happy cry when he found a large container of curly fries sitting under it. Pulling them out he couldn't help but glance up at Derek, finding the man grinning into his cup, and his heart melted a little bit at the sight. 

 

"So what time is everyone getting here?" Stiles asked as he unwrapped his burger and took a large bite, groaning as the grease hit his tongue. 

 

Lydia eyed him in disgust. "Scott and Kira should be here soon. Malia and Liam were with Mason but they should be here a little later."

 

Stiles nodded, chewing loudly. Good. He was glad that Liam was still hanging out with Mason. He was his best friend after all, even if he were human. Liam had told Mason the truth about himself and the rest of the pack a while ago, and the guy had actually hung out with them a few times afterwards, but it hadn't really clicked and he and Liam usually just hung out alone when Liam was away from the pack. Stiles didn't take offense to it. At all. Just because Mason was friends with Liam didn't mean Mason would bond the same way with the entire pack. Scott had made it clear to Liam that he was more than okay with him hanging out with Mason, and Stiles was pretty sure the guy would never reveal their secret, so everything worked out fine. He was glad that Malia had joined their little rag tag team though. Even though she was at home with the pack she still had trouble sometimes talking to outside people. Hopefully Liam could help her with that. 

 

"So what are the plans tonight? We going patrolling?" Stiles really hoped no one would take too much notice to the word 'we', cause yeah, he was pretty much sick and tired of house arrest and needed to get out. 

 

"No." Lydia clipped, staring sternly down at her food. "We are having a pack night."

 

Stiles arched a brow, shifting in his seat and lifting his leg to lay his foot on Derek's lap across from him. It was just an automatic movement but once he realized it had happened he stilled, tensing slightly, unsure what Derek would do. He chanced a glance over and saw Derek taking out a salad from one of the bags, seemingly without a care in the world. His gaze darted up then, looking Stiles over a moment and then it was gone. Stiles was about to pull his foot away but suddenly one of Derek's hands moved under the table and he felt the wolf's fingers curl around his ankle and draw his foot back, settling it back in his lap. And then he was opening his salad and pouring some tangy smelling dressing on it like nothing had had happened. Stiles felt a stupidly overwhelming sense of happiness and calm settle over him, and smiled around his burger, glancing back to Lydia. "How the hell did you convince Tall Dark and Brooding over here of that?"

 

Said Tall Dark and Brooding cut a glare up at him, and Stiles grinned wickedly. 

 

"We needed it. We've been on constant patrol for close to two weeks. It's good for morale. And I know how tactile werewolves are. Scott and the rest of the guys look pretty much touch starved." Lydia took a drink of her coffee before nodding. "One night won't hurt anyone. We deserve it."

 

Stiles snorted, beginning to bob his foot up and down in Derek's lap, because, well, he wasn't a 'still' type of guy. "You don't know the half of it. Most nights I had to kick him and Kira out of my bed. It got super annoying and super awkward super fast. I suppose I should call my dad at some point. He'll most likely want to come by and see for himself that I'm okay. Speaking of, I'm really shocked he hasn't busted down the door yet." Stiles said, looking over at Derek, and noticing the deep scowl on his face. Stiles frowned at him questionably.

 

Derek just nodded, chewing his salad.

 

Oookay.

 

"Do you mind if I invite him?"

 

Derek shook his head, all but glaring down at his salad. The look was so confusing to Stiles that he began to bounce his foot more quickly, feeling nervous over whatever it was that Derek was obviously upset about. As he did, though, Derek stiffened across from him, closing his eyes and groaning around his fork. That caused everyone at the table to pause, eyeing him with arched brows.

 

Stiles felt a blush creep up to his cheeks, and cleared his throat, because damn that had been one hot throaty moan. "Uh...salad good? And here I thought I was the only one that made the porn noises when eating." 

 

Derek's fist clenched on the table and he cut narrowed eyes up at Stiles. A moment later Lydia and Parrish started to talk and Stiles was turning to include himself in the conversation when he felt Derek's hand close around his ankle again, holding his foot still. Stiles looked back at him with a slight frown and sucked in a soft breath, noticing that the wolf's eyes were dark and heated. Stiles suddenly felt the hot lick of lust through their bond and then it all clicked together. His eyes shot wide, and unable to stop himself he pushed his foot against Derek's steel like grip to check and...oh god, yup. The werewolf had an erection. Derek's grip tightened on his ankle and he pulled his foot off of his hard length, his eyes shutting again with a shaky inhale. There was just something so seductive about the sight; knowing that he could make Derek like this by barely doing anything, and a wave of lustful power crashed into Stiles, making him feel so freaking hot, and so...so very wicked. A slow, devious grin growing on his face Stiles slid down further into the seat, until his foot was all but shoved against Derek's dick, and the wolf twitched across from him, his jaw clenched tight.

 

"So I assume it's just going to be another pizza/movie night?" Stiles asked lightly, blinking at Lydia with a small grin.

 

Lydia narrowed her gaze, looking at him a moment before nodding. "Yeah. Unless you have something better?"

 

Stiles pursed his lips, shaking his head with a grin. "No. Pizza and movie night sounds fine. Really good, actually. What do you thin, Derek?" He turned to look at Derek as he rubbed his foot against the man's cock through his scandalously tight jeans. Derek all but angrily stabbed his fork onto a tomato slice, glaring up at Stiles and grunting.  _Grunting._ Oh jesus it took everything Stiles had not to laugh. 

 

Lydia and Parrish frowned at Derek a moment before turning away with arched brows. "Well, I suppose in caveman speech that would have been a yes?" Lydia scoff's at Parrish, who just shrugs slightly.

 

"Derek forget's to use his words sometimes." Stiles say's mockingly, rubbing his foot harder against Derek's dick and watching as the man's nostril's flare and he chews with such intensity that Stiles feel's like the lettuce is being murdered, even though it's not a living thing.

 

"I think it's just a man thing in general." Lydia mutters, giving a look at Parrish when he pout's at her. "What? It's true. You do it too sometimes. Especially when you're nose deep in case files."

 

Derek finally stop's trying to still Stiles foot and just grab's onto the edge of the table so tight that his knuckles bleed white, Stiles can't help but feel a sense of wicked satisfaction at that and he increases the speed of his rubs, feeling Derek's dick start to twitch under his foot. 

 

"I thought you said you loved the way I look when I'm nose deep in case files?" Parrish ask's with a cocky grin.

 

Lydia purses her lips at him before shaking her head with a grin.

 

"Aww look how cute you guys are. What about you, Derek? Do you like the way I look when I'm nose deep and trying to solve a new mystery?" He watches as Derek all but rolls his eyes in the back of his head as Stiles does something with his foot that apparently is like discovering the holy grail for Derek. "I bet I look super hot when I'm...concentrating on something."

 

"Okay you guys are just being weird now." Lydia mumbled, eyeing them with a frown.

 

Parrish nod's his head with an arched brow and lean's back in his chair slight. Apparently it was enough, because his eyes shift downward and then shoot wide, and the next moment he's jerking straight again, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but at them. Stiles feel's slightly bad for the guy, but, oh well. What are you going to do? 

 

Grinning Stiles grabbed a few curly fries and pops them in his mouth, closing his eyes and tilting his head back slightly to moan so dramatically it even makes his own cheek's red. He feel's Derek's dick jerk hard under his foot and grin's, making a point to lick every single one of his finger tips, sucking his thumb in his mouth a bit. Derek's narrowed gaze zero's in on the action, his nostril's flared as he suck's in a sharp inhale. The fork in his hands bends under the strain as his fist clenches, and then Stiles watches in rapt attention as Derek's lips flatten in a hard line and he lowers his head, closing his eyes as his shoulders shake just slightly while his dick throb's uncontrollably under Stiles foot, and Stiles quickly feel's the hot wetness against his blue jeans. Feeling entirely too smug Stiles wag's his brows at Derek and lean's back in his chair, finally pulling his foot away and popping another curly fry in his mouth. 

 

Derek let's out a long, shaky breath, quiet a moment, before turning a glare so smoldering up to Stiles that it should have him quivering in his seat. Instead it just makes his grin widen, turn rakish and wicked.  Derek clear's his throat, licking his lips a moment before pushing his chair back. "I've go to...I'll....just be right back." And with that beautifully eloquent speech he stands and stiffly walk's out of the kitchen towards the spiral staircase.

 

In the kitchen Lydia's loud "Ew! You guys are gross!", followed by Stiles uncontrollable laughter rings out, and he rolls his eyes with a groan.

 

************************************************

 

Stiles pretty much feel's like he's the King of the Universe by the time Scott open's the door of the loft. He open's his mouth to throw out a greeting but Thor is barreling into him then, and Stiles yelps as he goes down. The dog lather's his face in a disgustingly large amount of saliva before Stiles pushes him away, wiping at his face with a cringe. "Uh, Dude come on." Thor gives him such a pathetic look that Stiles eventually just roll's his eyes and drag's the beast back to him, scratching behind his ears a few minutes with a grin. When Thor is finally satisfieD and trots off Stiles stands, brushing the dog hair off of his shirt. Looking up he see's Scott staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes, and Stiles frown's instantly. "What?"

 

Scott turns to look at Kira, who is eyeing him in confusion as well. "Hey, you think you can hang out while I talk to Stiles real quick?"

 

Kira nods and grins quick enough, leaning up to place a kiss on Scott's lips before moving towards the living room. As she past's Stiles though, she turns a confused frown at him, and Stiles just throw's one right back at her.

 

"Dude...we so need to talk." Scott moves forward and takes his arm then, and the next thing Stiles knows he's being dragged out of the loft and down the hallway.

 

"Whoa. What are you doing, man?"

 

Scott stops, looking around him a moment before turning on Stiles with wide eyes, which linger on the mark on Stiles neck before going upwards. "Dude I don't think you understand what you've done."

 

Stiles shift's and lift's a hand to cover his neck self consciously. "You mean have sex with Derek Hale? Uh yeah I kind of do. If I didn't that would have been very rapey of him and I don't think he's all for that. Which I'm not either so that's good I guess-"

 

"Stiles! No." A look of disgust comes over Scott's face like even having to talk about it is painful. "Dude I mean how he - you are...Dammit Stiles!"

 

"Oh my god! What is wrong with you? Aren't I supposed to be the spaz in this relationship?"

 

" _He claimed you, Stiles._ "

 

Understanding finally dawned on him and Stiles paused, growing bloodshot red. "Oh. Yeah, uh...I know."

 

If anything Scott's eyes only got wider. "What?! You know? Are you saying you seriously let him -"

 

"Knot me?" Stiles tilted his head to keep eye contact with Scott as the other boy groaned and tried to turn away. "Yeah, Scott. It happened. I'm glad it happened. I mean sure it didn't feel that great at the time, but after a while you know you kind of get used to it and it just-"

 

"Oh my god are you trying to kill me!" Scott pulled away, starting to pace, and with every second Stiles confusion grew more and more.

 

"Dude. I don't get why you're so upset."

 

"Because it's Derek Hale!" Scott swung around to him, holding his hands out as if to get the point across. "He's a jackass! And our past isn't really the greatest. I mean damn, Stiles, he's done some pretty messed up shit to us."

 

"Scott, that shit's in the past, man. He's not the same person anymore."

 

"And I'm just supposed to forgive him for everything he's done? To just forget about it and pretend like it never happened?"

 

Stiles swore, swinging around and letting out a bitter, unamused laugh. He shook his head a moment before turning back to Scott with hard eyes. "What about you, Scott? Are we just supposed to forget about everything you've done?"

 

Scott tensed across from him, his eyes narrowing. "What could I have possibly done that's worse than his track record?"

 

"Scott this isn't about who fucked up more. Okay? You can't slam on Derek when you know good and well that you've done some shit in the past, and I honestly don't think you even want me bring it up because I promise you I can milk the shit out of a few cases." He glared at Scott a moment, his chest rising and falling quickly. "We have  _all_ fucked up. And yeah, okay. Maybe when we first met him Derek did some pretty horrible shit, but can you  _honestly_ tell me that he hasn't changed since his pack died?" Scott scoffed at him, looking away. "People  _learn_ , Scott. It's what we, okay? I don't know what the hell your problem with Derek is, but the shit needs to stop now, because if I'm honest this little piss fight between the two of you has been one sided for a while now."

 

Scott turned a red glare on him. "That's not true, and you know it. He's always acting like a dick to me."

 

"You  _both_ act like dicks, but can you really blame him? Jesus Scott, you make it pretty clear sometimes what you think of the guy. Do you seriously not understand how fucked up it is? Dude, Derek's let us train here for months now! More than train! We hang out here, Scott. The pack hangs here.  _Because he is letting us._ "

 

"What so that mean's I owe him something?"

 

"NO! Ah - jesus you are so fucking hard headed! Derek has been trying to mend this thing between the two of you. And it's not like your at each other's throat's every day, okay? I'll give you that at least. But when you are? Jesus it's fucking ridiculous. And we all know what it is, but we don't say shit because we keep hoping you'll grow up and realize it doesn't matter."

 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Scott growled out, tensing.

 

"Scott, you're pissed off because Derek won't submit to you. It's this whole pig headed Alpha thing you got going on and it's ridiculous! I just don't get why you're so threatened by him. What the hell has -"

 

"Because he's taking you!" Scott shouted suddenly. He swung around at Stiles wide eyes, running a hand through his hair. "He's taking you, Stiles."

 

"Dude what are you talking about? I'm right here."

 

"Over the past few week's your bond to the pack has grown weaker, and don't look at me like that. It's true. It's a thing, okay? As an Alpha I can feel each individual link of the members of my pack, and yours...Stiles it's starting to  _shift_."

 

Stiles frowned, licking dry lips. "What does that even mean?"

 

"You're bonding yourself to Derek. And I don't mean this  _thing_ the two of you have now. I mean your pack bond. Every day it grows weaker and weaker towards me and get's stronger towards Derek."

 

Stiles looked down, blinking, trying to take everything in. "But, how is that even possible? Derek's not an Alpha."

 

"It doesn't matter. He doesn't have to be an Alpha for your bond to shift. Being an Alpha only allows you to feel the bond as a more tangible thing, and not just some gut feeling. But it's happening. And you aren't the only one." Scott looked up at him, and for the first time Stiles saw the hurt in his eyes. "Lydia's bond is starting to shift too."

 

Stiles didn't know what to say that that, and for a few minutes he just stood there, shocked and confused. "To Derek?" He finally whispered.

 

Scott nodded silently. "It first started happening that day at the hospital, when you had a panic attack. And then when you got hurt and we all stayed at your house, it shifted even more. it's - Stiles, they're almost faded from me. I feel like you're not even going to be a part of my pack soon."

 

Stiles gut clenches painfully at Scott's choked words, and he moves forward instantly, pulling Scott into a tight hug. Scott's arms come around him and they cling together for a long moment. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. You should have just told me."

 

"I was hoping that it would change. That if I started making an effort to hang out with you more and be there for you it would shift back."

 

Stiles sighed, shaking his head. Scott laid his head down on his shoulder then, and he knew how hard it was for him to show any weakness being the Alpha. He was supposed to stay strong for all of them, to be an example, and in that moment he looked so utterly lost that it broke Stiles heart. "Dude. You know that it doesn't matter, right? Who my bond is stronger with. I'll always be part of your pack. We're the  _original_ pack. Shit like that doesn't fade away."

 

"I just...I feel like I'm losing my best friend." Scott said in a small, muffled voice.

 

"Are you kidding me? You can't get rid of me that easily, my man." Stiles said with a laugh, rubbing his hand on Scott's back. Scott laughed faintly, though the sound didn't have much strength in it. "I'm serious, okay? No matter what, you'll always be my best friend. Scott just because I'm in love with Derek doesn't mean-"

 

"What?" Scott drew back slightly, staring up at Stiles with a furrowed brow.

 

Stiles opened his mouth, his eyes widening slightly when he realized what he had said. He nervously lick's his lips and tries for a weak smile. 

 

Scott's eyes shoot wide and his mouth drops open. "Dude. You're serious. You're in love with Derek. Derek Hale. The worlds most brooding werewolf ever. You're in -"

 

"Yes! Yes, Scott. Just ...for the love of god shut up already, okay?" Stiles glanced back down the hall, lowering his voice. "The cat isn't exactly out of the bag, you know."

 

"Dude..I can't believe this. This is insane. I mean I knew you liked him but I didn't think...." Scott sighed, his shoulder's slumping. "I guess it makes sense, then."

 

Stiles squeezed his shoulder with a stern frown. "Hey, didn't I already tell you to stop that shit? Scott I don't  _care_ who i have a strong 'pack bond' with. You're my best friend, and nothing will ever change that. I love you, man."

 

Scott smiled softly up at him, rolling his eyes and slinging his arm around Stiles shoulder. "Just... _Derek Hale_?"

 

Stiles rolled his eyes as they headed back for the loft door. "Yes. Now can we please forget I ever blurted that out?"

 

"No chance, man. Sorry. I'm going to mark this day in my calendar. Actually, what is today -" Scott takes his cell out and pull's up a quick memo. "Yup. Marking it. April 2, 2015 'Stiles say's he's in love with Derek Brooding Hale'. Done. Now it will go off next year at the same time."

 

Stiles tried to scowl but it broke into a weird frown/smile that had Scott snorting in amusement. "You are the worlds worst best friend ever."

 

"Or best. It can be argued. Dude can you believe graduation is only a little more than two months away? Unless it get's delayed from us being out. Do you think it will get delayed? I don't want it to be delayed, Stiles."

 

Stiles sighs down at his friend, shaking his head. "I swear it feel's like our rolls have reversed somehow."

 

Scott laughed softly, bumping his head against Stiles. "Oh yeah. I love you too."

 

They walk back in the loft grinning. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I.....have a weird thing for Stiles feet lol I ain't even gonna lie....That ep. where he gets put in the water tub and steps out all dripping wet with bare feet...
> 
> ...you guys should just stop. Just, stop reading my story and forget all about this cause I am obviously such a weirdo lol
> 
> Like seriously.
> 
> Just stop.
> 
> U_U


	50. The Last Night Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the pack continue to bond with one another, enjoying what they had not had in the past two weeks. Confession are given. Heart's are laid bare.

When Malia and Liam get to the loft another slightly awkward moment ensues, with Malia scenting the air around Stiles before her gaze zero's in on his neck, and a look of understanding comes over her. Liam, on the other hand, is so completely confused. He get's that something's happened, but it's clear he doesn't understand what, and Stiles makes it a point to tell Scott when they are alone again that he need's to sit Liam down and have the 'wolf sex talk' with him. Cause apparently the poor pup isn't aware of the important stuff. Scott looks absolutely horrified but nod's and promises he will. Stiles almost ask's him to record it, cause that's a conversation he'd pay to hear. As the pack settles into the loft and Lydia's orders a few pizza and they start in on the movies, no one say's anything about how Derek and Stiles seem to gravitate around one another. Or the brief, yet frequent touches the both of them initiate. Nothing too major. They aren't going to just start randomly making out in front of everyone. Not yet at least. This thing they had was still new and tentative, and they had only just begun to explore one another and each of their own comfort zones. Like Stiles had come to realize Derek seemed to like constant touch in one form or another. Whenever they sat down Derek shifted closer until their leg or arm was touching. When they started eating their pizza and Stiles sat on the floor against Derek's recliner the man had all but caged Stiles in with his legs. Stiles didn't mind it. At all. He found the touch reassuring. And Derek soon learned that Stiles particularly loved random light touches. Like brushes of his hand against Stiles arm or the back of his neck. Fingertips trailing across his hand when they passed. It made Stiles feel grounded and at peace, and the whole fact that they were like this now, were finally moving past all their previous angst and stupidity, it was like that first deep inhale of air after being under the water too long, where it felt like your lungs would burst. Stiles often went back to his conversation with Scott earlier. He guessed it made sense that his pack bond was shifting towards Derek. They had grown so close within the past few weeks that it just seemed natural. Stiles had been just as confused as Scott about the fact that Lydia's bond was shifting as well, but after thinking seriously on it he found himself not so surprised. He remembered the way it had felt that morning; he, Derek, Lydia and Parrish sitting in the kitchen and eating. Even after the awkwardness that he had created Derek had come back to the table after changing and they had just sat there for about an hour straight. Talking about nothing and everything. It had felt...so freaking easy. They had felt so easy. 

 

It wasn't like he didn't that with Scott and the other's, because he did. It was just, where they were in life right now, Stiles found something simply clicking when the four of them were together. And that did include Parrish. Stiles freaking loved the guy. He loved going to the police station and hanging out with him. There was just something so real and open about Parrish that Stiles couldn't help but appreciate. And hell, the four of them made a serious misfit team. Maybe he could name them later. He was sure both Derek and Lydia would love that. He glanced over at Lydia with a grin, finding her complaining yet again that they should watch The Notebook after the current comedy/horror movie went off. Everyone was groaning and didn't look the least bit interested, except for Liam, surprisingly. Stiles would be sure to make fun of him later. He watched as Parrish leaned forward and kissed Lydia on the forehead with a smile, standing with his now empty plate, no doubt going back to the kitchen for another slice or two of pizza. Stiles remembered something from yesterday at the station and found himself standing. He squeezed Derek's knee, watching Parrish as he walked away. "I'll be right back." He muttered. He heard Derek grunt in acknowledgement and followed Parrish into the kitchen, where the man was searching through the various boxes.

 

He looked up as Stiles approached, smiling. "Hey, Stiles. You come for more too? Better hurry up I think we're almost out."

 

Stiles shook his head with a grin. "Nah. I actually wanted to ask you something."

 

Parrish turned an arched brow to him, putting a few slices of pizza on his plate. "Oh yeah? What about?"

 

Looking behind him Stiles moved further into the kitchen until he was directly in front of Parrish. He leaned forward so he could speak softly and hopefully not alert any of the werewolves in the living room, hoping that they were too into the movie to notice him. "I saw that you were looking up the Hale House fire case."

 

Parrish gave a surprised look a moment before licking his lips and nodding. "Yeah. Is that a problem?"

 

"No. Not at all. It's just that case is closed, so I'm just wondering why you were looking at it exactly. Were you just trying to find out more about Derek?"

 

Parrish opened his mouth, drawing in a breath before looking over Stiles shoulder and sighing. He set the plate down on the table and pulled out a chair to sit down, leaning back in it and looking slightly confused. "Honestly? I'm not sure. It's just when I first heard about it from you guys I couldn't get it out of my head. I thought if I read through the file my fascination with it would end. But it hasn't. Stiles I've read that damn file at least a thousand times and I just keep doing it, like I'm searching for something."

 

Stiles frowned, leaning his hip against the table. "What do you think you're searching for?"

 

Parrish gave a defeated sigh, shaking his head. "I have no idea. It's just..there's still things about it that don't make a lot of sense. For instance the fact that according to Derek eleven people were trapped inside, but the police report only shows eight deaths. I mean I know that you guys found out Cora Hale was alive still, but what about the other two that weren't accounted for?"

 

"You think more people made it out?" Stiles' eyes widen and he turns to look over his shoulder again, almost as if expecting to see Derek standing there. 

 

"I don't know. I just - it's strange, you know? There's just something about it that I can't figure out."

 

Stiles nodded in understanding. He stood there a moment, gnawing on his lip, before moving forward and bending so he could speak softly. "Look, don't bring this up to Derek, okay? He's been through hell and back and had thought he was the only one left besides Peter. And then when Cora showed up it was like he'd been gifted a miracle. I just don't want him to start thinking 'what if'. Especially when he more than likely will never be able to find answers."

 

Parrish shook his head immediately. "Don't worry, Stiles. I had never planned to. If I'm being honest it was more for my peace of mind than anything. I just..I feel like we've missed something."

 

"Yeah well, if that's true and we do have hard evidence one day that more people made it out of the fire, feel free to share the knowledge, buddy. But until then..." He drew off, not needing to say more. 

 

Parrish gave a slight smile before standing again, grabbing his plate. "You're very protective of him. It's good. Anyone can see that he's been lonely. I mean I don't know him that well, but I like to think when we're around each other we get along at least."

 

"Parrish my man, surprisingly I think you irritate Derek the least out of all of us."

 

"I'll take that as a compliment." Parrish grinned, patting Stiles on the shoulder as he passed and headed back to the living room. 

 

Stiles followed after him, glancing to Derek but finding the werewolf staring at the TV screen, seemingly preoccupied in his thoughts. Stiles didn't know if he was faking it or not, but when he moved to sit against the recliner again Derek just pressed his legs against him and Stiles wrapped his arm around one of his powerful calves, clinging onto his knee with his hand and resting his head against his thigh as he watched the movie.

 

 

*********************************************

 

 

The Sheriff came in later that night, heading immediately for Stiles who suddenly looked like a deer in the head light. Stiles unfortunately had to stand and listen to a full ten minutes of fussing before the man pulled him in for a tight hug. Stiles apologized to him, but apparently Derek had given a pretty good explanation last night about how Stiles hadn't really been himself and had just been acting on pure instinct.

 

Shockingly John took the fact that Stiles had turned into a wolf surprisingly well, though he did tell Stiles he was no longer allowed to make dog jokes about his friends. Stiles had told him about trying to bring about the change various times throughout the day, and how he had been unable to even make his eyes glow - which meant Derek had been right, and it was just something that would happen the night of the full moon every month. Stiles was just grateful that his transformation hadn't been the 'must find human's to maul' kind and more along the lines of 'me horny must find person to hump'. 

 

John had said he could stay for a few hours until Melissa got off her shift, and then he had to head back so she wouldn't be alone. Stiles and Scott took the time to bug the man with questions about their relationship, and it had been going increasingly well (being that John squirmed and blushed like a teenager almost every question), but then, because he was a cruel man, he had in turn asked how Stiles and Derek's relationship was going as well. That had ended up with Scott laughing his head off while Stiles sputtered incoherently as his dad proceeded to ask him horrifyingly embarrassing questions that Stiles just could  _NOT_ talk about with is dad. In the end John Stilinski had taken Derek aside later that night for a talk, and by the time Derek had come walking out of the kitchen he had been slightly pale and looked like he just wanted a hole to crawl in. As Stiles had hugged his dad to say goodbye the man had quietly told him that he didn't care if werewolves couldn't catch or carry diseases and someone was to wear a condom at all times. To Stiles horror he had heard snickers from the living room. John had just given him an 'I don't even care look' before heading back out to Melissa. 

 

 

The pack had then proceeded to give Stiles absolute hell, and Stiles had gotten so flustered from it that he had demanded it his turn to watch something, so after everyone finally agreed Stiles was pulling up HBOgo and everyone was settling together again. Just as Stiles was returning to his place in front of the recliner, Derek reached out and pulled the boy down to sit with him. Stiles had stared at him a moment in surprise, before blushing slightly and settling until he was more comfortable, which ended up being with him draped sideways, thighs over Derek with the boy's legs hanging over the side of the recliner. Derek was silently grateful that he had decided to get the largest lazyboy he could find, because in that moment everything felt perfect. 

 

 

The next hour the pack proceeded to watch a TV show that was a favorite most of them, and by the the end of the show Derek watched in amusement as almost everyone in the room jumped up and started screaming at the TV angirly, Stiles of course being the loudest of all.

 

 

"No!!! FUCK NO! They can't do that! Not to  _Jon Snow_ , man!!! Not  _my_  Jon Snow!! I swear to god if they do that I'm sending ass loads of hate mail!!!!!"

 

 

Derek had arched a thick brow. " _Your_ Jon Snow?"

 

 

Stiles' gaze had jerked from the TV to him, and he looked sheepish, red, as he shifted on his feet. "Uh...did I say that?"

 

 

Derek had just snorted and dragged Stiles down into his lap again, pulling the boy's face close to his own with a hand at the back of his neck. "Are you trying to make me jealous?" He teased.

 

 

Stiles licked his lips, his eyes drifting down to Derek's mouth before flicking back up to meet his gaze. "I don't know. What would you do if I was?"

 

 

Derek's gaze turned sly and predatory. "Do you mean what  _else_  would I do? I've still got to pay you back for that little scene earlier in the kitchen, remember."

 

 

Looking down at him, the playful glint in the werewolves eyes, Stiles hadn't been able to hold back anymore. He lowered his head and placed a chaste kiss on Derek's lips, lingering just a moment before beginning to pull away. Before he fully could though Derek's hand around his neck tightened and pulled him back, pressing there lips more fully together as he deepened the kiss, their lips moving against each other in slow, lazy glides while behind them everyone argued points on how Jon Snow may or may not be dead. 

 

 

It was nearly midnight when Stiles had to take Thor out for a bathroom break. A member of the pack always went with him each time, and this time Lydia offered, placing a quick kiss to Parrish's cheek before skipping over to Thor, who ran circles around her legs a moment before letting Stiles attach a leash to his collar. As they headed down the lift to the street below Stiles made his way to where there was some greenery across the road, looking down the deserted street, the crisp night air penetrating through his shirt. "This was a good idea." He said to Lydia, glancing over at her. She had changed into some silk pajama's and had her long red hair up in a messy bun, and was still one of the most beautiful girls Stiles had ever seen.

 

Lydia nodded, stifling a yawn. "Yeah. We needed a break. We haven't really had the chance to just lay back and relax in a while."

 

 

Stiles snorted at that. "Maybe not you guys, but it's all I've been doing. It's starting to drive me crazy."

 

 

"Your dad is just worried about you." Lydia said softly, her voice sounding far off.

 

 

Stiles turned to look at her, noticing against how her eyes looked tired, dark circles coloring the skin underneath. "Are you alright?"

 

 

Lydia licked her lips and glanced over slightly before her shoulders slumped. She gave a defeated sigh, staring at the ground. "I'm still having trouble sleeping. I just - the fact that I  _know_  one of us is going to...it's killing me, Stiles."

 

 

Stiles stopped walking, turning to face her. She looked so small and fragile in that moment, so far from the hard calculating mask she so often put's on. Very few people knew just how sensitive Lydia truly was. How soft and gentle on the inside, and Stiles feel's honored that Lydia trusted him enough to show him that side of her. With a sigh he dropped Thor's leash - because the dog never ran off anyways - and wrapped his arms around Lydia, pulling her close. Lydia returns his embrace quickly, hugging his middle tight and laying her head against his chest. He sit's his chin on top of her head, staring on the other side of the street, watching as a street light begins to flicker against the darkness. He wants to say that she was wrong. That maybe she got something mixed up in her prediction, but Lydia's predictions were never wrong. Every since she had first screamed that day at the park, had first told them that one of them would die, Stiles had listened and believed her, yet somehow the knowledge had just felt detached since. Surreal. Like a whisper in the dark. You know it exist's, but it still feels fleeting and incorporeal. Now, though, for the first time, real fear blossoms in him. His arms tighten around her slight frame, pulling her in tighter and burying his cheek on her head. "We'll stop it. Somehow. Not many people get the chance to  _know_ about their death. And if we know, we can prevent it."

 

 

"But that's just the thing." Lydia whispers brokenly, and Stiles know's she's crying. "I don't know  _who_ it is. Which one of us. What are we supposed to do, Stiles? You know as well as I do that we won't stop fighting, no matter what threat. Any of us. It's like a curse."

 

 

"Maybe we're just too damned heroic for our own good, yeah?" Stiles tries to laugh, but the sound is weak. Frail. Holding no real weight. 

 

 

"But is it really worth it?" Lydia pulls away from him, looking up through large tear stained eyes, vividly green in emotion. "If one of us dies is it worth it? Stiles I don't think I can lose anyone else." She draws off on a sob, and Stiles pulls her against him again, clenching his teeth and trying to control his own emotions. 

 

 

"We're not. I'm not going to let it happen, okay? I'll protect us all. I swear to god I will. I'll find a way."

 

 

Thor whines softly at their feet, sitting and butting his head against Lydia's thigh to try and offer comfort. Lydia sniffles against his shirt, her hands splaying wide on Stiles back. "You know, I actually believe you."

 

 

"Good, because I mean it. So stop worrying, okay? I know you think you're being smooth but you still get these moments sometimes and I swear to god Parrish get's this look on his face like someone's kicked his puppy when he notices. And unless you want me to cuddle rape your boyfriend, you've gotta start being happier, okay?"

 

 

Lydia laughs against his chest, rubbing her cheek against him, wiping away the tears and most likely snot. Stiles doesn't even care. "Derek's lucky, you know that right."

 

 

Stiles blew out a snort through his lips, pulling away and wrapping his arm around Lydia's shoulder as he bent to pick up Thor's leash again and head back to the loft. "Are you kidding? I'm freaking awesome. In fact, look up the description of 'Awesome' in the dictionary and it will say 'A state of mind reserved for one Stiles Stilinski and to which all other's aim to gain but can never achieve.'"

 

 

Lydia rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you're names in there under Ego too."

 

 

Stiles arches his brows at her as he laughs. "Lydia Martin. How snarky. And so very unlike you."

 

 

"Sarcastic as always, I see." Lydia clipped back.

 

 

They headed into the building and rode the lift to Derek's floor, feeling much better, and Lydia even had a small smile on her lips, looking more like herself. As Stiles was reaching for the door of the loft, though, Lydia laid a hand on his arm and pulled him back slightly, and Stiles turned to looked down at her with a frown, noting that once again she seemed withdrawn, troubled. "Are you okay?"

 

 

Lydia licked dry lips and glanced up at him hesitantly. "Yeah it's just...that night at Eichen House..."

 

 

Stiles frowned, blinking down at her when she drew off. "What, Lydia?"

 

 

The redhead opens her mouth again, a soft breath of air spilling past her lips. She looked up at Stiles a moment before a shift came in her eyes, becoming closed off. She closed her mouth again, shaking her head. "Nothing. Sorry." She gave him a forced smile.

 

 

Before Stiles could peg her for questions, though, she was pushing open the loft door and heading in. Stiles followed after her with a frown, watching her as she moved to Parrish, who was grinning at her like she was the ice to his sweet tea. Sighing, Stiles decided that he would press her later for answers. She had been about to say something important. He knew it. The look in her eyes had been scared, hesitant. Whatever it was Stiles had a feeling she _needed_ to talk about it, even if she was denying it. 

 

 

"What's wrong?" 

 

 

Stiles turned to see Malia standing beside him, her face scrunched up as she watched him. He grinned a bit and shook his head. "Nothing. Just Lydia being Lydia." He said, hoping that his heart beat didn't stray too far from the truth. 

 

 

Malia watched him a moment before nodding, crossing her hands over her chest and eyeing the bruise on his neck. "You know I always had a feeling. I mean with how often you dreamed about him. And then you'd talk about him constantly, even if was just complaining."

 

 

Stiles opened his mouth, but he had no idea what to say, cause frankly he had no idea where this conversation was going. Was he supposed to say sorry? To deny it? What was happening here?

 

 

"I noticed it and I never did anything about it. When I should have." 

 

 

Oh, well this seemed to be going downhill fast. Stiles shifted uncomfortably on his feet, looking sheepishly down.

 

 

"Stiles stop freaking out! I'm not mad at you. I'm trying to freaking apologize."

 

 

Whoa. That was - what? "Apologize?" He croaked out.

 

 

"Yes." Malia hissed at him before looking around, as if making sure no one was watching. She sighed and moved closer so she could speak lower. "Look, I know I blamed a lot of what happened between us on you, but that's not true, okay? I didn't exactly make it easy on you sometimes. I know I can be...difficult. What I'm trying to say is when I realized you had feelings for Derek I should have ended it. But I didn't. I was too jealous and dug my claws in even more. I wasn't ready to give you up yet, and it was wrong of me. And it was wrong of me to get so angry at you whenever you wouldn't want to ...be intimate with me. I hurt, but I know I made it even worse when I'd just lash out at you instead of admitting what was really happening. So...I'm just sorry, alright?"

 

 

Stiles realized he was standing there with his mouth hanging open, he really did, but for the life of him he couldn't seem to close it. Finally he broke through his awkwardly silent spell, rubbing the back of his neck and staring sideways. "It's okay. I mean we both messed it up. We were both stupid. I'm just glad that things worked out in the end. I mean you haven't even been dating Liam long and you already seem more....human, than you ever were with me."

 

 

Malia laughed softly at that, turning to glance towards the living room where Liam was sitting rigid on the couch, and Stiles knew the boy was pretending not to hear. And doing a pretty horrible job at it, actually. "We get each other. It makes it easier. Plus we haven't really had sex yet but I'm sure when we do he won't ask me to-"

 

 

"Oh my god okay!" Stiles screeched, looking over and seeing that Liam had swung around to them, his face mortified. Stiles felt a bit of amusement at that. At least he wasn't the only one embarrassed. 

 

 

 

Malia gave him a vicious smile before swinging around to plop down on the couch beside the boy, who was as red as a beet. Stiles groaned and looked around the loft, finding Lydia and Parrish at the kitchen table talking quietly, laughter in their eyes. Scott and Kira were sitting in the living room as well, Scott laid out on the floor with Kira bouncing playfully onto of him, her face scrunched up far too mischievously while Scott just grinned up at her like a puppy in love. Stiles searched for Derek, but couldn't see him anywhere. Frowning he moved past the living room towards the hall, thinking he was up in his bedroom. Once he moved past the guestroom he had previously been sleeping in, though, he was suddenly jerked through the door with a yelp of surprise.

 

 

He found his back shoved up against the door as it shut, and looked up with wide eyes to see Derek staring down at him with a narrowed gaze. Stiles felt a shiver shoot down his spine and swallowed hard. "Derek..whatcha doing?"

 

 

Derek gave one of those sharp toothed grins that let Stiles know either something incredibly bad, or incredibly good was about to go down, and he trembled in anticipation. 

 

 

"I told you was going to get you for earlier."

 

 

 

Stiles' opened his mouth and stood there stupidly, struggling for words a moment. "And h-how exactly are you planning to do that?"

 

 

Derek arched a thick brow before his hands were suddenly on Stiles pants. Stiles sucked in a gasp as he felt the wolf pop the button and start to drag the zipper down. His dick immediately started to grow hard. "Wh-what are you doing?"

 

 

"Punishing you."

 

 

Oh jesus christ. The words were so hot that Stiles nearly came right then and there. He shut his eyes with a shaky sigh, leaning his head back against the door as Derek slid his hands into his pants and boxers, and then he was palming him. Stiles breath caught in his throat and needing to feel Derek's mouth on him he grabbed the man's head and brought it down for a bruising kiss. Derek growled against his lips, tilting his head so he could get better access as he probed his tongue into the hot cavern of Stiles mouth. Stiles moaned at the taste of him, their tongues clashing against one another, fighting for dominance. Stiles was really enjoying tasting every inch of the man's mouth when Derek bit down slightly on his bottom lip before pulling away. Stiles head followed the retreat with a whimper, desperately wanting to redo the contact. 

 

 

Derek's large hand came up to his chest then and pressed him hard back against the door, and Stiles opened his eyes, breathing hard as his eyes ran over Derek hungrily. "That's not fair. You're not allowed to tease."

 

 

Derek just gave a lazy grin, his fist tightening around Stiles cock and pumping faster, making Stiles tip his head back in a moan, which he immediately slapped his hand over, trying to cut off the sound so the other's wouldn't hear. Werewolf senses and all that. "Maybe we should wait?" Stiles whispered weakly. "Everyone's still awake."

 

 

Derek looked at him a moment before suddenly dropping to his knees and before Stiles had time to process what was happening the man's mouth was around his dick. Stiles sucked in a strangled sound before shoving his palm against his mouth again, his eyes wide and filled with shocked pleasure. He looked down at Derek, watching as the man took him all the way to the base and held for a moment, and the sensation of Stiles dick hitting the back of his throat made him jerk his hips with a soft whimper. Derek's eyes cut up at him and he growled before slowly pulling away again, pulling off of his cock with a soft pop. It was so fucking obscene that Stiles had to dig his nails into his palm to keep from cuming all over Derek's face. And then that image really didn't help.

 

 

"I guess you'll just have to be quiet." Derek said softly, his vibrantly colored eyes holding Stiles gaze as he drug the flat of his tongue along the slit of Stiles penis, catching the precum eagerly. Stiles bit down on his lip with a groan, dragging his eyes away because if he looked at the man a second longer he'd lose it. Shutting his eyes he laid his head against the door and tried to calm his rapidly beating heart.

 

 

Derek grinned at the sight of Stiles struggle before lapping up the precum dripping from Stiles, nearly moaning at the intoxicating and heady taste of him as it hit his throat. He had a sudden and demanding urge to have Stiles cum all over him, to rub the sticky stuff against his skin until no one would be able to differentiate their scents again, and he took pleasure in the fact that one day it would be exactly that. Unable to help himself he reached down to push his palm against his own straining length in his jeans, nearly whimpering at the slight sting of pleasure that was nowhere near enough. 

 

 

Stiles free hand lowered to curl against the back of Derek's head, his fingers digging into thick black hair and Derek loved it, even if it made him feel slightly submissive. This was supposed to be him torturing Stiles though, so he took control again before the boy could press him to continue. He slid his mouth over Stiles again, a slow, tight glide. When he reached the base he swirled his tongue along the bottom of Stiles, and felt the boy twitch and heard the muffled gasp. Growling low in his throat Derek pulled away again until he was just sucking hard on the head, licking at it greedily in little circles that made Stiles breath quicken. He wrapped a hand along the base of him, pumping slightly as his lips closed over the head of him again, savoring the taste and feel of the boy in his mouth, how he knew Stiles would taste as good as he had imagined. Pulling his other hand away from where he was palming himself, Derek cupped his balls, and this time the strangled sound that came out of Stiles mouth had Derek leaking in his pants, his dick aching for attention. 

 

 

"Been wanting to do this for so long." Derek grunted out as he pulled away, pumping Stiles with his fist while he rolled his balls in his palm. "Wanted to taste you. Have you in my mouth."

 

 

Stiles stared down at him with wide eyes, and Derek felt his dick twitch in his hand. " _Oh my god_. You can't tell me that. Not now."

 

 

"When you jacked off in my shower that time and I smelled your cum all I've wanted to do since is feel it running down my throat." Derek drew out, his eyes shinning to blue.

 

 

Stiles held his fist against his mouth as he moaned, his body beginning to shake. "Jesus Christ not that I don't love this dirty talk, cause believe me I fucking do, but if you don't stop I'm going to shoot off immediately."

 

 

Derek grunted up at him. "Bend down."

 

 

Stiles blinked at him a moment in confusion before bending slightly at the waist. When he was close enough Derek pulled one of his hands away and gripped the boy's jaw.

 

 

"Open your mouth."

 

 

Stiles' eyes widened at his words, and after a second he obeyed, opening his mouth and moaning when Derek slipped two fingers in. He sucked hungrily on them as Derek began to pump him again, his mouth returning to Stiles painfully hard cock. Stiles was prepared to dine on Derek's fingers forever but the wolf was pulling them away far too quickly, and Stiles whimpered at the loss of them. Until at least he felt them reaching behind his legs and then Derek was running his wet fingers across his quivering hole. Stiles had to reach out and grab onto the dresser at his side to keep from falling to his knee's, squeezing his eyes shut with a groan as Derek rubbed at him. "Oh my god. I feel like I'm living a real life porn.  _Fuck_ I'm so happy we stopped dancing around each other."

 

 

Derek growled around his dick, his fist and head bobbing faster. Stiles cock was twitching, pulsing slightly under his fist and he knew the boy was close to the edge. Desperate to see him crumble he prodded his fingers against his sensitive entrance and pushed through, groaning around Stiles cock at the sensation of his fingers immediately being sucked in so eagerly. Stiles whimpered pitifully above him, the scent of his arousal heavy in the air and nearly overpowering. 

 

 

"Oh god. Yes, just like that. Please. Ah fuck, Derek!" Stiles couldn't help himself, he began to roll his hips back and forth, his mind a chaotic mess, unsure if he wanted to press forward against Derek's mouth, or roll backwards to have those fingers deeper inside of him. He felt Derek twist his fingers then, the pads of them rubbing against his prostrate, and Stiles' spine stiffened with a cry, and a moment longer a full body shiver ran over him and then he was jerking against Derek's mouth, biting down hard on his lip as he came, his eyes rolled back in his head.

 

 

Derek opened his throat and swallowed him down with a growl, savoring each heavy spurt as it hit his tongue. When Stiles began to whimper above him he carefully freed his fingers, loving the way Stiles walls clenched around him, almost as if trying to pull him back in. He lowered his other hand from the boy's cock and pulled his mouth away on one last slow, thorough suck, his tongue twirling on the head to get the last bit of release. Stiles made a weak sound and would have fallen to his knees had Derek not stood and caught him. 

 

 

He took in Stiles dazed expression, his eyes half lidded and his mouth slightly open, his bottom lip coated in a small bit of blood where he had bit down too hard against it. Derek gave a satisfied growl at the sight, pleased that he had been the one to cause it, and grabbed Stiles, pulling him forward and bruising his lips even more in a hard kiss. He lifted his hands and ran them though Stiles hair, making it even more of a mess, before pulling away. He rubbed his stubbled cheek against Stiles own soft one a moment, drifting down to place a stinging bite to Stiles jaw, which made the boy jump slightly and yip. He pulled away then, far too happy when he saw Stiles sway slightly on his feet. He looked a complete mess. Hair sticking every which way, cheek red from Derek's scruff, and lips swollen, bruised. It was a sight that Derek wanted to hold onto forever. Giving the boy a savage grin he moved him aside gently and opened the door, walking out, leaving Stiles to stand there a long moment, dazed.

 

 

***********************************

 

 

 

 

Everyone finally falls asleep around one AM, and Stiles and Derek climb the stairwell up to the wolfs bedroom. For some stupid reason Stiles feels slightly shy, uncertain, and Derek seem's to pick up on it, because he all but pushes Stiles onto his bed and tell's him to 'shut up thinking' before pulling out a laptop tucked under his bed. Stiles raises his eyebrows as he settles against the pillows at his back.

 

 

"We watching a movie?"

 

 

Derek nods, turning to look at him. "Unless you want to go to sleep?"

 

 

Stiles shakes his head. "Nah. Movie is good." Honestly, he isn't ready to go to sleep yet. He wants to spend as long as possible talking to Derek, sitting easily beside the man and laughing with him. Well, it's mainly Stiles laughing, but Derek gives little half smirks every now and then, and even though it doesn't sound much, Stiles knows that it is. He just hopes that one day Derek will be able to openly laugh with him. He's not impatient about it though, surprisingly. He's eager to watch the build up to it. To see just how far time takes them. The thought brings a bubble of anxiousness. He was thinking of Derek in sense of long term, then? Well, Stiles guessed it made sense. He  _was_ in love with him. And he knew that Derek cared for him. He had knotted him after all. He just didn't know how deep the man's feelings went exactly. 

 

 

But Stiles didn't want to think of that now. He wanted relax and enjoy his time with Derek, to savor every second of it. Smiling softly he scooted further into the man's side. Derek glanced over at him briefly, and Stiles thought he may have seen a slight smile. "What we gonna watch?"

 

 

"I don't know. You pick."

 

 

Stiles pouted, laying his head on Derek's shoulder. "I don't wanna. We always pick. I want to watch something that you like. I don't think you've ever chosen something at movie night."

 

 

Derek stilled at that, glancing down at him almost hesitantly. "You don't care?"

 

 

Stiles looked up at him with a frown. "Of course not. Besides I'm curious what kind of stuff you watch."

 

 

The wolf gave an almost sheepish nod as he turned away, and after pulling up Netflix he settles for a TV show that Stiles had seen before but never really watched. It was some western about this rough around the edges guy who was trying to revenge his murdered wife, who ends up working for some railroad. What was kind of cool was the fact that there was sort of a moving 'town' that camped out at the tracks whenever the works moved on. The town had been coined 'Hell on Wheels', which Stiles found flippantly brilliant, and after finishing the first episode Stiles found that he really loved it, and wanted to watch more. When he told Derek the wolf had tried to be smooth about it, but it was quite obvious he was preening happily, and Stiles had found it so adorable that he had tackled him for a series of smothering kisses which Derek didn't even try to escape from. 

 

 

In the end Derek shut his laptop and slid it under the bed again, saying that they could watch more later before he laid on his back and pulled Stiles into his arms. Stiles didn't complain. Why would he? Derek basically wanted to cuddle. There would be  _no_ complaining from him. Smiling Stiles curled in on Derek, wrapping a leg around one of the man's and laying his head on his shoulder, curling his arm around his waist. It felt so... _right_. Like he had been doing it all his life. At the floor Thor's ear's twitched and his glanced up at the two of them before yawning and returning to sleep. 

 

 

"Today was a good day." Stiles murmured against Derek, rubbing his cheek on the man's shoulder while he slipped his hand inside his shirt and played with those rock awesome abs.

 

 

Derek inhaled softly at the touch, the skin of his stomach quivering slightly as he gave a nod. "Yeah. Lydia was right. We needed a break."

 

 

"It feels like it's been forever since we've all been here together like this. I missed it. I think Lydia needed it the most though. She's still really messed up about her prediction."

 

 

Stiles words hung over them a moment, before Derek pulled him tighter against his body, not letting go, as if he were scared Stiles would just vanish. Stiles buried his face in the crook of his neck, inhaling deep a moment. "I know you're worried. Everyone is. Don't be. I'm not going to let anything happen to anyone."

 

 

Derek looked down at Stiles head, listening to his words but unable to keep the worried doubt at bay. Stiles was more or less just a human. He was fragile. Breakable. So easily hurt. How was he supposed to protect them? It was clear to anyone who knew him that Stiles cared deeply for his friends, and would do anything to protect them. Hell, he would protect complete strangers. It was just who he was. He was selfless. Always putting people before him. And that worried Derek. He didn't want Stiles doing something stupid thinking that it would keep them safe. If Stiles got hurt...if he....

 

 

Derek clenched his hand into the pillow under his head, unable to even think about it. 

 

 

"Hey, what's going on? I'm getting some pretty intense emotions right now." Stiles leaned up slightly to look down at Derek, seeing the way the man's face was clenched tight, his eyes hard, dark. He lifted a hand and ran it along the man's bearded jaw, trying to loosen the tightness. "What's wrong?"

 

 

Derek's nostril's flared and he stared up at the ceiling a moment before looking at Stiles. "You have to promise me you won't do anything stupid again." Stiles stared down at him silent a moment, searching his eyes and Derek lifted himself up slightly, his gaze drilling into the boy's. "Stiles I'm serious. The Slaugh - _Ryan_ is still out there, and sooner or later we're going to run into him again, and it's not going to be pretty. I need you to promise me you won't do anything stupid."

 

 

Stiles finally gave a slight nod, licking his lips. "Okay. I promise, Derek."

 

 

They looked at each other a moment before Derek sighed, leaning his head forward until his forehead was against Stiles, and shutting his eyes. "I just got you. I can't lose you."

 

 

Stiles felt his heart clench painfully and lifted a hand to curl on Derek's jaw, running his thumb right below the man's full lower lip. "Hey. I'm not going anywhere, okay? Everything's going to be fine. We're going to get through this. All of us." He searched Derek's eyes a moment before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss to his lips. Derek breathed out a sigh against his skin and kissed him back, soft, small grazes that sent chill's down their spines and made their lips tingle.

 

 

The man was rolling then to his side, pulling Stiles arm around him, and Stiles went with the motion, curling his body around Derek and holding him tight, burying his face in his neck. He felt Derek tremble slightly when his nose brushed his skin and tightened his hold around the wolf. He knew that the position displayed Derek's need to be comforted, and knew that it meant a lot that the man was allowing Stiles to see him like that. Stiles drew his hand up on Derek until his palm was resting flat against his chest, his heart beat below his finger tips. Derek rumbled softly and scooted further into Stiles warmth, before going slack against him. Stiles stayed awake long after Derek had drifted off, the steady, strong thump of Derek's heart beat against his hand like a beacon to his own soul. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONLY. TWO. CHAPTERS. LEFT!!!! 
> 
>  
> 
> :O omjebus im skurd


	51. Sacrifice Pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Loss is a choice made for you. Sacrifice is a choice you make." - Some wise person I don't remember. Or was it a movie quote....hmm maybe from a game....Okay yeah i just googled. Tomb Raider. GO ME! Lara Croft is HAWT!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today....I had to call my mother to ask how old I was....this has nothing to do with the story, I realize that. I'm just....older than I thought I was....and now so, so very sad lol I hope I forget again.

The sound of thunder woke Stiles from a dreamless sleep. Opening his eyes he watched the room as it was illuminated in pale silver with each streak of lightening across the sky, and the sound of heavily pouring rain was more soothing then chaotic. On the floor by the bed Thor whined softly against the sound before rolling to his side and stretching his legs, settling into sleep again. Stiles smiled at the sight before turning to look at the werewolf at his side. He and Derek had managed to move around in their sleep, with Stiles lying on his back and Derek curled up on his side, his cheek against the pillow. Stiles turned slightly, looking the older man over in the faint and soft light. Casting shadows made Derek's eyelashes look longer than they really were; black spikes spilling high on his cheeks. His stubble looked a little thicker than usual, and Stiles imagined that he hadn't taken a trimmer to it in a few days. Unable to help himself he reached a hand out and softly grazed his fingertips across it. The wolf had taken his shirt off at some point, most likely because of his internal werewolf furnace, and Stiles stared down at the thick but not too thick black hair dusting his chest. He lowered his hand and let his fingers trail through it, finding it surprisingly soft. He smiled at that, wondering if Derek shampoo'd and conditioned the stuff, and the image was so hilarious that he had to lay the back of his wrist against his mouth to keep from laughing out. 

 

Looking back up at Derek's face with a smile, he took advantage of the fact that the guy was asleep, his eyes trailing over those usual scowling brows which were lax with sleep. His strong nose and full pink lips that Stiles had always found himself fascinated with. How could they look so soft when the rest of him seemed so hard? Stiles wanted to reach out and touch them, but he didn't want to risk waking Derek up. He knew the man hadn't been getting much sleep lately, plus he liked the sight of him lying there, vulnerable and open. The man was usually so guarded, defenses a mile high. Not that he didn't have his reasons. He knew that Derek had been dealt a pretty shit life, and could sympathize with him on that, he just hoped that one day he would trust Stiles completely. Enough to share all his demons. Because no man can stand under such weight. Not alone. Sighing Stiles brushed a strand of hair from where it was laying over his brow, thinking about how far they had come. How far they would hopefully still go. 

 

He wasn't aware Derek had awoken until the older man reached up and grabbed onto his hand, still resting on his cheek. Stiles jumped slightly and stared down into gorgeous eyes peering back at him. 

 

"What are you thinking about?"

 

 

Stiles smiled immediately at the question, blushing a bit. "I was remembering when you were turned back into a teenager and came to my house. Remember? We ate Chinese with Scott's dad and then later you pushed me against a door?" He laughed softly. "I felt like such a pervert because my mind automatically went to sex driven things."

 

 

A slight smirk caught Derek's lips. "I noticed."

 

 

Stiles groaned, shutting his eyes a moment. "Jesus I bet you thought I was a serious creeper."

 

 

Derek watched him a moment before licking his lips a bit nervously. "Actually...I felt a pretty ridiculous amount of lust myself. And it made no sense. It kind of freaked me out."

 

 

Stiles balked a moment, his mouth wide open before grinning widely. "Do go on!"

 

 

Derek rolled his eyes, shrugging a shoulder. "You kept  _touching me_. When you wrapped your arm around my shoulder and introduced me as your cousin...and then when you kept looking at me when we were eating because you were nervous. And then when I did have you against the wall - well, let's just say I was planning to hop out your window before Kate even showed up. It confused me."

 

 

"And therefore you wanted to run." Stiles said softly, a bit sadly.

 

 

Derek just sighed and reached out to thump Stiles on his forehead. The boy glared at him, rubbing the spot. "Can you really blame me? In my head I was just some fifteen year old kid wanting my family. I had no idea what was going on."

 

 

Stiles pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, okay. I'll give you that one."

 

 

They stared at each other a moment, Derek running small circles on Stiles wrist with his thumb. "I'm not going to run anymore."

 

 

Stiles expression was so open and trusting that it made the werewolves breath catch in his throat. Stiles nodded, licking his lips. "I'm going to hold you to that, Big Guy. Because, like, we've already done the deed. And you never know. I could be pregnant and stuff."

 

 

Derek snorted loudly, shaking his head with a grin while Stiles smiled impishly up at him. "You are such a dumbass."

 

 

"Yeah but you lo-" Stiles drew off, his mouth slightly open and his eyes widening.

 

 

Derek looked at Stiles, his own mouth parting slightly as what Stiles had been about to say settled over them. It was awkward, and they were both embarrassed, but there was something else there, some unspoken acknowledgement that they both felt and had all but guessed in the other, and with the words almost out there they felt it was too late to turn around now. Stiles was the first to act. He swallowed, hard and audible, before trailing his hand up until it was resting against Derek's quickly racing heart. Licking his lips nervously he looked up at the wolf, who was watching him with almost a pained expression. Stiles tried not to hesitate at that look, though his heart did skip a beat as his nerves fluttered. Stiles knew what it was to be rejeced, hell Lydia had all but ignored him most of his life, and while he still had fear's he knew that what he and Derek had was special somehow. Different. And he used that knowledge to give him the push he needed. "Derek..." The wolf's eyes widened slightly, searching Stiles gaze , and Stiles could all but feel the man's heart slamming against his hand. "I-"

 

 

His words were cut off when outside the loft a particularly booming clash of thunder struck, followed by a long series of lightening flashes, and Thor was suddenly growling. Stiles flinched from the intensity of the sound of the storm, feeling the room shake slightly. And then the next thing he knew Derek's eyes were darting up over his shoulder and glowing blue, and the man let out a growl the likes Stiles had never heard before being all but thrown aside, Derek shooting from the bed with fangs and claws out. Stiles gasp and twisted around to see the Slaugh standing in the shadows of the room, it's blood red eyes roaming hungrily over Stiles before turning to Derek and releasing a ear piercing shriek.

 

 

The two collided with enough force that Stiles was shocked they didn't burst apart, shattering. Derek had his claws dug deep in the Slaugh's neck, but the Slaugh embedded both of his own in Derek's sides, and the creature's were at least a good three inches longer, and as sharp as razors, and the piercing howl that came out of Derek's throat went straight to Stiles heart. Stiles heard himself screaming out, stumbling from the bed and running to Derek just as Thor shot out, barking savagely. Before Stiles could reach them Scott was racing past him in a blur, followed closely by Liam and Malia. He felt arm's around him and looked back to see Parrish pulling him away. Stiles fought against the man, his gaze jerking back to where the struggle was taking place even as Kira raced towards them, her katana wielded. The Slaugh tossed Derek aside far too easily as it turned to face Scott and the other's, and Stiles cried out, finally freeing himself from Parrish and racing to Derek, who was laying on the ground with wide eyes, his side pouring blood. 

 

 

"Oh god oh god." Stiles put his hands against the wound and pressed hard, Derek hissing in pain as he arched his back. And then he heard Thor's high pitched whine and watched in horror as the dog was thrown through the air, landing against the opposite wall hard. Stiles cried out when the dog collapsed on the floor, not moving.  

 

 

"Get Stiles out of here!" Scott suddenly roared, and Stiles turned to see him and the other's struggling against the Slaugh. But it was like the creature could bend and twist it's body to smoke, avoiding most of their attack's, and Stiles watched in horror as the creature brought Malia and Liam to their knee's. Kira slid under the things massive claws as it swung on her, digging her blade deep into it's side the same time Scott let out a roar and raked his claws across blackened decayed flesh. 

 

 

Stiles felt arms around him then and jumped, fighting until he heard Parrish's voice in his ear, screaming at him to calm down. When he realized the man was dragging him away from Derek, who was still twisting and writing on the ground in pain, Stiles struggled again, reaching out for the wolf through sobbed cries. 

 

 

Lydia was standing over them suddenly, her body stiff and her eyes hard, and then she opened her mouth wide and the Banshee screamed. Parrish, Stiles and Derek both gasped from the intensity of it, clamping their hands over their ears as the room shook. Scott and Kira fell to their knees beside Liam and Malia, and the Slaugh twisted in pain, stumbling backwards, it's head jerking in a horrific way as if it were trying to dislodge the the wail. On the floor Scott reached out a shaking hand and took Kira's, and the two looked at one another, expressions still pained. Scott gave a slight nod of his head which Kira returned after a struggled moment, and then the two of them were up again, racing forward. Kira let out a warrior cry as she dug her blade deep into the Slaugh's chest, ripped it out and then twirled aside just as Scott, who had leapt into the air, came crashing down onto the creature with a roar. He landed on it's chest, sending the thing down, and then his claws were raking against it's nightmarish form over and over, black blood spraying the air and onto Scott. 

 

 

After what seemed like hours Lydia's scream finally vanished, and she swayed on her feet before stumbling backwards. Parrish jumped up with a gasp and caught her before she could hit the floor, cradling him against her and calling her name over and over again. Lydia's eyes fluttered, her head moving slightly, and then those big green globes were looking up at him. Parrish cried out in relief and buried his face against her hair. Across the room Kira came forward and laid her hand on Scott's shoulder, who was staring down at the Slaugh, his breath ragged and uneven. Malia and Liam were struggling to come to a stand, approaching Scott as well, looking past him down at the still, bloodied form of the Slaugh. Stiles finally jerked his gaze away from them and swung around to Derek. The man was pale. Too pale, and blood was still seeping out from a wound that would not heal. Stiles cried out and crawled to him.

 

 

"W-we have to get Deaton. Scott we need Deaton!" He all but screamed, not taking his eyes off of Derek. "He must have infected him with his claws again. Scott we can't bleed him out like this. He's already lost too much blood!"

 

Scott finally stumbled over to him, sliding to his knee's beside Derek, who was sweating heavily and clenching his teeth together to try and keep from crying out. "Derek?" 

 

The wolf finally cracked open his eyes, groaning in agony. He looked briefly at Scott before turning to Stiles, and Stiles felt his eyes watering in horror at the way the light was receding from them. "Is it...dead?"

 

Kira approached, her shaking hand holding her cell phone to her ear. "I'm calling him now." She whispered. "Malia and Liam were hurt too. Though it's not as deep so we should be able to bleed them more easily."

 

"This is it." Lydia whispered suddenly, and everyone turned to look at her with wide eyes. She sat shaking hard in Parrish's arms, her eyes haunted, locked on Derek. "This is...."

 

"No!" Stiles all but screamed at her, his face a mask of rage. "No no no. It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay." He pushed his hands harder on Derek's wounds, wincing as the wolf cried out and curled in on himself slightly. "You're going to be alright. Deaton's going to come and he's going to fix you and you're not dying okay? You're not freaking dying, Derek!"

 

Derek began to caught, heavy heaves that had blood spilling from his mouth, and Stiels cried harder at the sight of it. The wolf blinked his eyes quickly, as if he were having trouble seeing, and squinted a little until his eyes were focused on Stiles. He looked up at him, and the expression of pain that came to his face had nothing to do with his wounds. "I'm sorry." He choked out before cringing and closing his eyes again.

 

 

Stiles stared down at him, shaking his head in desperation. "No no no please Derek come on. Don't do this ple - please don't do this!" Stiles leaned down closer to the man, feeling a surge of anger fill him. "Don't you  _dare_  do this you asshole! I will fucking  _hate_  you if you do this!"

 

The wolf's chest started rumbling slightly, and after a moment Stiles realized it was a very weak laugh. After what seemed like hours Derek was finally able to drag his eyes open again. He lifted a weak, shaking hand to cover Stiles, and tried to smile softly, though it resembled more of a grimace. "Wh...why are you - always such...a brat." 

 

Stiles laughed despite everything. It was a wet, croaking noise, but after a moment the sound faded into a sob, and he lowered his head to his chest, his shoulders shaking as he cried and clung to Derek's hand. Derek looked up at him fondly, his eyes quickly losing their focus. God he loved him. So freaking much. More than he ever thought he would be able to love another person. And maybe he hadn't always loved him, but in that second he did know that ever since the first moment he met Stiles, something in him had shifted. Some silent tug that no matter how annoying he had found the boy, had always had him coming back. Had him worrying over him. Had made him try to push him away because he didn't want him hurt. God he wished he could go back and change that. He hated now how small he had ever made Stiles feel. As if being human was a bad thing. Stiles was so beautiful because he  _was_  human. He was fragile. He understood that life was precious and he lived it fully. Treated everyone equally. Panic began to fill him for the first time then. He was horrified at the idea of never seeing Stiles again. Never watching the way his face shifted so easily from annoyance to sheer shock to wicked teasing. Never see the soft smiles that catch his lips. The way his eyes shine brightly and seem more golden than brown. What if Derek never got the chance to kiss along the moles dotting his jaw and behind his ear? What if he never got the chance to trace the freckles dotting his body? To breath in the scent of him, which was so complex yet simple. A scent that smelled like  _home_. 

 

Derek let out a sob even as his vision began to darken, his hand desperately tightening on Stiles, though he was so weak it was really hardly a twitch. He couldn't make out Stiles words anymore, but he could see the boy's face right in front of his, his huge eyes heavy with tears and his mouth opening and closing harshly, like he was screaming. Derek realized he had never told him that he loved him and his heart sank at the thought. He opened his mouth, to try and whisper the words out before he faded into darkness completely, but then something from the corner of his eyes caught his attention. He frowned, somehow managing to move his head slightly and look behind Scott's shoulder to the other side of the room, and released a whimper.

 

The Slaugh was standing. It's twisted knotted boy uncoordinated and sloppy, almost as if it didn't fully have control of it's body. The things bald head snapped up then, it's eyes glowing crimson as they locked with Derek's. It's mouth dropped wide, rows of razor sharp teeth on display as it gave a lip less grin. Derek opened his mouth as his heart picked up from it's near silent tempo, trying to alert everyone else. But the only sound he managed to make was a dying whisper. The Slaugh shifted forward, walking unsteadily, jerking on it's feet as it approached everyone. And no one had noticed it. They were all staring in rapt attention at Derek was he died, and because of him, they would all die as well. He felt a hot tear roll down to his ear, trying to tell everyone with his eyes what was happening. The Slaugh was only a few feet away from where Scott kneeled over him, lifting up it's horrifically long claws, reaching out. The sight was somehow enough to make Derek give a horse cry, and there must have been something in his expression, or the beat of his heart that was a warning, because the next second Scott swung around with wide eyes. He didn't have a chance. The Slaugh shriek and tossed him aside, and everyone was too stunned to react quickly enough.

 

The last thing Derek saw was Stiles being jerked away from him, the Slaugh wrapping it's long, thin arms around his body. Stiles eyes widened in fear and he reached out a hand towards Derek, before suddenly he and the creature vanished in a billow of smoke.

 

And then there was nothing.

 

 

 

*************************************************

 

 

 

 

One moment Stiles had been crouched over Derek's body, watching the man he loved die. And then the next the world falls from under his feet and a sickening nausea overcomes him. He feel's something similar to a semi crashing into him and open's his eyes again, immediately rolling over to his side to empty the contents of his stomach with a groan. He hear's dark, raspy laughter, and look's up to see the Slaugh standing a few feet away, eyeing him. Stiles let's out a weak cry, still feeling the effects of their instant travel. He tries to come to a stand, but his leg's are too wobbly to hold his weight and he goes down on his hands and knee's again, feeling wet cement scrape his palms and knee caps. He can hear constant dripping of water and looks up at his surroundings, seeing that's he is in some sort of large seemingly abandoned building. A large part of the ceiling is off, and the storm outside spill's through the hole, rain flying sideways from the heavy wind.

 

 

"Where are we?" He tries to stand again, and after a moment of struggling on shaky legs he manages to straighten, turning a glare to the Slaugh.

 

 

 

"Where does it look like,  _Stiles_." The Slaugh hisses at him in clear furious mockery. " _This is my home_. Do you like it? I'm afraid it's a bit of a mess. I wasn't expecting anyone!"

 

 

Stiles cringes at the obvious venom in the words, but won't let himself be backed into a corner from fear. He has to go. He has to get back to the loft. Derek is - oh god Derek. He let's out a choked sob before he can help himself, his fist raising to cover his mouth, and that's when he see's his hands. They are covered in blood still. Derek's blood. He stares down at them with wide eyes, beginning to tremble as everything hits him painfully. "Oh god..." Derek was.....he was.....

 

 

He sobs again, holding his hands out in front of him, not wanting to touch himself. Across from him the Slaugh grin's wickedly, row's of sharp teeth flashing in the faint light of the building that came from the hole in the ceiling. 

 

 

"Do you think he's dead by now? He lasted longer than I thought he would. I guess that's to be expected, though."

 

 

Stiles slowly lift's his gaze from his shaking hands to the Slaugh, who is jeering at him, digging a metaphorical(or is it figurative? bah i'm bad at that) blade deep in Stiles heart. Strangely enough, it's not grief that washes over Stiles, but anger. Rage the like he has never before experienced. It boils and bubbles like a volcano in the pit of his stomach, until it's exploding outwards in a violent explosion, and before Stiles even know's what he's doing he's racing forward and tackling the Slaugh to the ground. A half crazed howl of retribution pierces his ears, and he realizes that it's coming from him as his fist collides hard with the Slaugh's bony head over and over again. Stiles knew somewhere in the back of his head that he wouldn't be able to keep the upper hand on the nightmarish creature, but there had still been some fleeting hope that the universe would give him a fucking break for once. Today was not that day. Stiles grunted as he was tossed through the air, his back colliding hard with a concrete pillar running to the ceiling a few feet away. Pain shot through his body like a domino effect, blooming first in his back, and then spanning out to his limbs and even head, and Stiles vaguely feared that some type of serious damage had been done when he had collided with the pillar.  It didn't help at all that his head smacked hard on the floor when he landed, and for a long moment Stiles blinked in and out of consciousness.

 

 

"You may be strong, but you're not that strong." The Slaugh hissed out, grabbing onto one of Stiles leg's and jerking him across the floor. The boy moaned feebly, feeling like he would be sick again. The Slaugh rolled him over to his back, and crawled up his body, it's red eyes piercing the shadows as it leaned in close and took a deep inhale of him. Stiles whimpered, trying to pull himself away but he was still too disoriented to do so. "Smell  _so good_."

 

 

Stiles lifted a hand weakly and tried to push the creature off of him, but the Slaugh just grabbed a hold of his hand and twisted it sharply, the bone breaking with a loud, angry  _pop_ , and Stiles screamed from the pain, his body twisting on the wet ground. 

 

 

"Should have just did this in the beginning." The Slaugh rasp's as it drop's Stiles broken wrist only to grab his other. After another sharp twist and pop Stiles feel's himself passing out after another scream of agony pushes past his throat. He floats in and out of consciousness, his eyelids fluttering as his eyes roll back in his head.

 

 

".....so long since I've fed." 

 

 

Stiles is dimly aware of the Slaugh speaking, it's rancid breath hot on Stiles face.

 

 

"....you did last time made me weak.....took me days to recover and then....."

 

 

"Please....please..." The words leave Stiles mouth in a nearly inaudible whisper, and he struggles to open his eyes. "...Don't have to do this..."

 

 

The Slaugh is so close to his face then that Stiles can feel it's cold, ugly flesh brushing his cheek. " _I have to feed_. It's the only thing that can fill the emptiness in my chest. And I  _like it_." The Slaugh mutter's gleefully, and Stiles shivers when he feels a cold wet tongue slide across his cheek. "The taste of people's fear is so addictive. So  _ripe_. But I've never tasted anyone as sweet as you, Stiles." The Slaugh all but whimpers against Stiles, grinding it's naked, bony hips against him ludely, it's horrific claws ripping into the material of Stiles shirt and leaving it in shreds to hang on his body. "I just need a little. Just enough to return me to full strength."  _  
_  


 

 

Stiles cries out as he feel's skeleton like digit's grab onto his chin, forcing his mouth open.

 

 

"Don't worry. I won't take it all." The Slaugh whispers, almost reassuringly into Stiles mouth, and Stiles gag's at the taste of it's breathe. "I need you. We're going to stay together forever, you and me. You'll nourish me." It's claws graze along Stiles cheek almost lovingly, and Stiles wants to retch. "You'll understand one day. We can return to how we were, Stiles. Don't you want that?"

 

 

Stiles lift's his arms and tries to push the creature away, and just cries out again as pain shoot's through his wrist's so strongly that he almost passes out again. "No. Please don't. Please don't do this. Ryan." Stiles sobs, trying to turn his face away. "Ryan don't do this."

 

 

"Shhhh. It's going to be okay." 

 

 

Stiles whimpers again, his eyes going wide and frantic as the Slaugh stretches it's mouth open to an impossible width, and then the next thing he knows his back is bowing and he feel's something being ripped from him. Something from deep within his chest, and it feels  _so_ incredibly wrong. It feels like he is being violated. Like the most secret part of him; that which  _makes_ Stiles what he is, is being stolen, and he wants to weep from the loss of it. Coldness is seeping into his chest as each piece of his soul is sucked straight out of him, and when the Slaugh finally pulls away, it's red eyes rolling back in it's head with an euphoric gasp, Stiles feel's like he will never get that piece of himself back again. 

 

 

He lays there under the weight of the Slaugh, crying, his eyes despairing and slightly void. 

 

 

" _So powerful!_ " The Slaugh whispers in awe, swaying slightly as if high. "My Stiles....my sweet, powerful Stiles."

 

 

Stiles cringes as the Slaugh caresses his face again, before suddenly it is off of him and vanishing from his peripheral's. As if he can't help it Stiles turns his head, seeking out the monster, too afraid to be left in the dark about it's intentions. He watches as moves to pull at some chains hanging high from a banister a distance away, and Stiles feel's his gut clench in panic. He roll's weakly to his stomach, trying to use his arms to crawl away Army style, but an overly large clawed hand wraps around his neck then and lift's him in the air, and Stiles eyes bulge as his windpipe is squeeze, air caught in his throat. His hands stay limp, useless at his side as the Slaugh carries him to the chains, which have manacles attached at the end. The Slaugh somehow manages to get the things around his wrist's, making Stiles scream inwardly as fire surges through his hands and arms again and he feel's nausea induced sweat break out across his body. The Slaugh does not pull away from him though, not yet. It wraps it's arms around Stiles' waist, pulling their bodies close almost as if embracing, laying it's head against his chest. 

 

 

"We'll punish anyone who ever hurts us. I'm so much more powerful with you beside me. You'll understand one day. Won't ever let anyone hurt you."

 

 

Stiles tries to open his mouth and tell Ryan that  _he_ is hurting him, but then Ryan abruptly pull's away, and without him there to support him Stiles drops downwards, screaming out in agony as the manacles pull taught at his wrist, the tips of his toes just barely touching the cement floor. He scream a long time, until he can't breath, and then after sucking in air his screams return; echoing loudly within the large empty building and back into his ears, until after long he has no idea if he has ever stopped or if he's just hearing the reverberation of his own voice. Eventually, it doesn't matter, because the pain is too much and he passes out.

 

 

 

******************************

 

 

 

_Stiles is a child again. He is eight years old, yet despite that, does not feel the carefree, awe'd abandoned that most other children his age does. He can't. All he feel's is fear, denial, and pain. Because he is sitting beside his mother's hospital bed, gripping her hand tightly and listening to her as she say's her farewells. He doesn't want to listen. Wants to clamp his small hands over his ears, scream loudly and drown her soft, weak words out. But he can't, because Claudia Stilinski has that look on her face that say's what she is saying is something important, something meaningful, and Stiles feel's responsible to listen. He feel's like even though he know he won't like the words, he has to hear them anyways, and has to keep them within himself always. Locked away in some secret part of himself to be taken out later when he need's them._

 

 

 

 

_"My sweet, beautiful boy." Claudia whisper's weakly, her voice raw from both emotion and the prolonged screams from her most recent episode. But right now her mind is clear, and that happens less and less now days, and she fear's that if she does not speak her last peace to her son, she will never get the chance again. In that moment, looking into his innocent wide eyes, she desperately wishes that her husband were there as well, because she knows she is going to die. She knows this the same way she knows that Stiles will never really be the same afterwards, and a part of her that fiercely wants to protect her child screams to push him away. To bare her teeth and hiss and threaten, send him scurrying from the room so he won't have to watch as her body shakes with the death grip, but the words on the tip of her tongue are meant to be said now. Not earlier. Not later. Now. And she hates destiny in that moment, as she has never hated it before._

 

 

_Stiles sniffles, wiping at the tear's streaming down his face, and Claudia has a feeling that maybe he knows as well. He has always been intuitive, far more than other boy's his own age. More than most grown men she knows. But that's to be expected. Stiles is special, though he has no idea how much._

 

 

_"Please, can we just go home now?" Stiles beg's, his bottom lip trembling as he looks at his mom desperately. Her once beautiful and thick light brown hair is dull, thinned and coarse to the touch, and her face is ragged and pale, her eyes sunken in, heavy shadows underneath. In that moment she looks so different from herself that Stiles feel's like she's a stranger, and it's only her eyes that hold a sense of familiarity. They are like his own, though Stiles would deny his were as beautiful. The color so liquid warm and bright. But everyone always told them that his had his mother's eyes, and it made him feel good, tightly connected with her._

 

 

_Claudia fought the urge to cry, barely holding the tear's back as she forced a weak smile on her face and lifted her hand with what little strength she had left to lay it against Stiles soft cheek. "No, sweetheart we can't. I'm sorry."_

 

 

_Stiles' bottom lip quivered a little more, and he lifted his hand to hold it against his mother's own, turning his cheek into her palm. Her hand was cold now. Colder than it had ever been, but he remembered how warm it once was, and pretended it was that way again. "I don't want you to go." He whispered then, almost too softly to hear._

 

 

_Claudia felt her heart breaking, and it took everything she had not to cry. He knew then. Knew that this was it for her. That she was about to leave him and John. Not forever though. Nothing was forever. "Sometimes you just can't help these things, Love." She tried to explain in a way he would understand. "It's my time. I've had a good life with you and your father. We were so good together. So happy. And I will miss you both so much."_

 

 

_Stiles whimpered, bending in on himself a bit as silent sobs shook his body. "But I need you. Daddy need's you. How are we supposed to cook? He always burns everything."_

 

 

_Claudia found herself laughing, despite everything, and the tear's did spill this time, but they were a type of happy/sad combination and she found that they weren't so bad after all. "I guess you'll just have to learn. You have to take care of him, okay? He need's you. He's big and grown but inside he's still such a child at heart. He'll need you to take care of him." Claudia's eyes become sorrowful then, because she knows that her little boy will have to grow up far too fast, and it kills her to know that he will never have the full childhood he deserves. That he will always have this part of himself that will be made empty with her death. It's not fair. This shouldn't be happening to him. He was too young. Too innocent. Claudia just prayed that he would one day find people that, while they may not be able to fill the hole her death will leave, can permeate and strengthen his heart to bursting so it makes it more bearable._

 

 

_"I can't do it. I need you. I'm not strong enough."_

 

 

_Claudia tightens her hold on his cheek with enough force that Stiles opens his eyes, looking up at her, his breath catching in his throat when he see's the sure, hardened resolve in her expression. "Don't ever say that. You are more fierce than you know. I see your soul, and it is powerful and resolute, and it will only grow stronger. Son, promise me that you will never give up."_

 

 

_Stiles look's away with a sniffle, not wanting to make the promise, because he know it will be the last one he gives to her._

 

 

_" **Stanislaw!"**_

 

 

_The use of his first name makes Stiles jump slightly, and he looks back to his mother, his eyes wide._

 

 

_"Say it. Say you will never give up."_

 

 

_Stiles look's into his mother's eyes, at the fire within them, the demand, and he can't refuse her. "I'll never give up." He whisper's at first, sniffling again and drawing a little straighter, squeezing his mother's hand. "I'll never give up." He repeats, his mouth twisting on a sob. His mother's lips tremble as well, but she smiles at him, nodding her head. "I'll never give up!" Tear's stream down his face, making his vision blurry as his body shakes with his sobs._

 

 

_Only minutes later a nurse walk's in and finds him there, gripping his mother's hand hard, chanting the mantra over and over between sobs. Claudia lies on the bed, eyes closed, body still. Dead._

 

 

 

 

_***************************************_

 

 

 

"I'll never give up." Stiles hear's himself whisper as he comes to, rapidly blinking open his eyes. He hangs there a moment, confusion clouding him, and then his slightly more coherent eyes take in the dark, dank building, and he remembers where he is. What happened. He groans as the pain hit's him. But it's not in his wrist's. Strangely enough he can't feel them at all. Or his arms. But his chest hurts painfully, and so does his stomach. Somehow finding the strength - despite how sluggish his body feels - he rolls his head back and looks up, cringing when he see's that his hands are so deeply purple they are almost black. He look's away from them, because it will do him no good worrying about what he knows is bad. He searches what part of the room he can see, but doesn't find Ryan anywhere, and doesn't know if that is a good or bad thing.

 

 

His body is still wrecked with nausea, dizzy and tired, and he knows that soon he'll pass out again, and feel's himself begin to panic. But for the first time, it's not from fear. He realizes now that he needs to take what moments of clarity he has to  _think_. To calculate the situation and how to best solve it. Because this? He is not going to die from this. He refuses to. And though he may be weak at the moment, he is not powerless.

 

 

Just from thinking it, he feel's determination blossoming heavy in his chest, chasing away the residual coldness until he felt like his chest was on fire. In fact, it was such a real sensation that he couldn't help but glance down and make sure flames weren't sprouting, and while there were none, what he saw there made his breath catch in his throat and his eyes widen.

 

 

The sigil on his chest. It was still there. Which could only mean one thing. The link between him and Derek was still there. Derek was alive.

 

 

Stiles cried out in relief, tear's spilling down his cheeks. He felt his resolve shift and crash stubbornly in place, knowing it would now not be budged. He had something to live for. But not just Derek. Everyone. All of his friends. They needed him. His dad needed him. He couldn't let them down. He wouldn't.

 

 

Grinding his teeth past the pain in his body Stiles closed his eyes and retreated into his mind, electric impulses surging in flares of color and stimulation. 

 

 

 

"I'll never give up..."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, you guys this sucked to write lol like...so bad...it was almost too painful :(
> 
>  
> 
> Okay...so.....haha i KNOW i keep saying this but there will be 2 more chapters after this lol not 1....sigh. I have no control. 
> 
> And yo i was made aware today I make some pretty weird faces when I write lol like I make the same facial expression that the character is feeling/making. lmao apparently when I was writing a lot of the Slaugh scene my face was craaaaazy hahaha guess it helps me get in the characters head :/


	52. Sacrifice Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 in a 3 part chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ummmmmmm so i did that super annoying thing again where I saved the chapter as a draft on accident and didn't actually post it.... teehee :"3
> 
> buuut it kind of works out cause i've been super busy today and not sure if i can get another chapter in yet. :/

Scott is sitting in the hard chair beside the equally hard examining table which Derek is lying unconscious on, feeling bone weary and tired. A few feet across from him Deaton is steadily applying pressure to the manual blood transfusion pump, keeping a steady flow going from Scott's arm into Dereks. The pack had been taking turns for the better part of four hours while Melissa bled Derek until his blood had run free of the black infection. He had finally begun to heal, but he was still weak and needed more blood for what he had lost. Scott was the last out of the pack to take a turn, and he sincerely hoped that this was all Derek needed, because he didn't know if they could do a second round. He glanced up at his pack, finding them all slack jawed and pale, their eyes wide and conflicted with varying emotions. They were desperate and scared. But they were also angry. At themselves. Stiles had been taken right from under them, and they hadn't been able to stop it.  _Scott hadn't been able to stop it._ In that moment he felt like he failed as an Alpha. And while Stiles may be in a between state in the pack, he was still his best friend. And that the guilt was unbearable.

 

Scott turned to look at the Sheriff, who was slumped in a nearby chair, Melissa right beside him, holding his hand tight. The man looked like he was falling apart. When he had found out what had happened he had went ballistic. Sending out an APB stating that Stiles had been kidnapped. It was a slim chance, but with Stiles mugshot all over the TV stations hopefully if anyone spotted him they would know. Not that Scott thought anyone would spot him, unless he managed to escape the Slaugh again. Scott prayed he managed to escape. He was horrified of what Ryan would do. Last time had been - it had been fucked up. Scott knew what had almost happened to Stiles, so did Derek and his dad. And that thought made him sick to his stomach. If Ryan were to....Scott would never be able to live with himself.

 

 

"It's our fault." Kira said softly beside him then, and Scott blinked past his blurred vision to frown at her, seeing the way her eyes shined with unshed tears. "We thought it was over. If I had known I would have....we could have saved him if we would have just done  _more_."

 

 

 Scott shushes her and grasp's her hands between his own, bringing them up to his lips. "Don't do that. We didn't know..." He felt strange trying to comfort her when he felt the exact same way. Almost as if he were lying to himself.

 

"It had no heart beat." Liam whispered then, his eyes haunted. "I know. I listened. We all thought it had died."

 

"I think it  _did_." Malia buried herself against Liam's side, needing to feel him beside her. "It just...came back."

 

"It doesn't matter." John spoke then, his voice gruff, raw  with emotion. "Because when I find the fucker I'll make sure it's dead."

 

Hearing the man say that, Scott was suddenly made shockingly aware of how much the pack had changed since the Slaugh had come to Beacon Hills. When had their 'we don't kill' motto gone out the window? It was like it had never existed in the first place. He wanted to believe that it was just because they had never faced something so horrific before, but Scott had a numbing feeling that it was more than that. He realized that he and his pack were beginning to understand that life was not so simple. They could not hold onto foolish dream's anymore. They could not play pretend, imagining themselves as noble saviors. Their lives were bloody. And in order to keep that blood from spreading, sometimes you had to do things - to make choices that left you haunted. 

 

Sometimes you had to create death, to preserve life.

 

In the end Scott didn't know what was 'right' or 'wrong' anymore. He just knew what had to be done. 

 

He looked up again at his pack mates, his eyes traveling their faces. Not a one of them would walk away from this the same. He could tell that. And strangely enough he found himself most regretful for Liam. He was so young. So innocent still. How would this all chance him? Would it harden him? Make a little bit of that innocence die? Scott felt a wave of guilt once again crash into him and immediately heard his pack mate's whimper as they sensed his emotion, crowding closer to try and offer comfort in any way they could. 

 

Lydia and Parrish were the only one's that continued to stand aside. Lydia had her arms tight around her middle, her eyes wide and slightly incoherent, her jaw slack. Parrish was running his hand up and down her arms, placing kisses to her head every few minutes, but Scott knew that at the moment Lydia was in some far off state, drawn within herself, shell shocked. After Derek had survived, she had gotten this look on her face of absolute horror and despair, and they all had understood what it meant. If Derek wasn't the one that was supposed to die, then.....Scott pushed the through aside, unable to deal with it at the moment. He instead smiled weakly up at his beta's and returned their comfort, but his eyes kept going back to Lydia. He knew that she blamed herself for everything. That she thought if she just had better grasp of her powers she would have been able to stop this all from happening somehow. But there was something else that had been bothering Scott lately. Over the past few week's he had noticed Lydia slowly but surely declining. It was obvious she wasn't getting any sleep, and her eyes looked far off most days. Whenever he tried to bring it up though, she always brushed it off in that scoffing way of hers, with a roll of her eyes and a twist of her head. It was more than infuriating. Not because Scott was pissed off at the way she was acting, but because he was honestly worried about her. He wanted to help. She just wouldn't let him. He had asked Parrish about it one night, and the man had been aware of her state lately, but had no better luck than Scott did as to getting to the source of it. 

 

"Okay. I think he should be fine, now." Deaton said suddenly, and Scott looked up at the doctor, nodding his head briefly and offering up his arm so the man could pull the IV out. He winced slightly before watching the small wound heal, and sat back with a sigh, glad to have the thing out of him. Werewolf or not, needles had always kind of freaked him out. 

 

"When do you think he'll be awake?"

 

Deaton pulled the IV from Derek's arm with swift precision before setting the equipment aside. "I'm not sure. He's been off of the anesthetic for a while now. It just depends on his body."

 

Scott nodded. When they had finally been able to resuscitate Derek and get him to Deaton's, the Druid had put the man in an induced coma using propofol laced with wolfsbane, and kept him under until Melissa had been able to bleed him and he had at least three pack member's blood running through his system. It was drastic, Scott knew, but Deaton had said it a necessarily precaution, just in case Derek woke during the treatment and tried to lash out at them. Which knowing the man, he would have. "And you're sure that he'll know?"

 

Deaton turned to look down at Derek. "If what you say is true, then yes. It's just a matter of him understanding how to use the link to track Stiles down."

 

"Can't you do something to wake him up now?" John drew out impatiently, his voice almost angry.

 

No one held it against him. They all understood.

 

"I could, yes, but the method's would only make him more dazed and confused. He'll have to be fully coherent to tap into the bond and locate Stiles. If he has mated him, that is."

 

Scott was very close to baring his fangs at the man. "I told you he has."

 

Deaton just gave a slight nod, not the least bit intimidated.

 

John's expression was a mixture of things, relief and uncertainty the strongest. When Scott and the pack had brought Derek into the clinic the Druid had taken one look at Derek and asked if he had mated with Stiles. It had been completely unexpected and more than a little awkward. And apparently more than obvious. Deaton had told them that now that Derek and Stiles were mated, the bond between them would have increased tenfold, and if Derek tries hard enough, he should be able to locate Derek through the link. Stiles dad had been a bit vocal about the fact that his seventeen year old son was not only sleeping with a 26 year old werewolf but mating with one too. But in the end if it would help them find Stiles, then he was willing to push that fact aside. For now.

 

So now the pack shared a similar impatience, because they all knew the longer Stiles was out there with the Slaugh, the worst his chances were. 

 

 

************************************

 

 

 

 

 

Derek wakes up with a gasp, shooting upright on the cold, hard table. His eyes take in what he recognies as one of the rooms of Deaton's clinic before he hear's people shouting and suddenly hands are all over him, pressing him back down. He goes crazy, shifting and raoring, snapping his fangs and trying to slash out with his claws. The screams grow louder, more demanding, and Derek vageuly think's he hears someone cry out in pian. And then suddenly a defeaning roar is filling the air and rinigng in his ears, and while the wolf in him still fights, refusing to back ground, there's something strikinly familiar about the sound and it strikes clarity in his mind. Derek's struggle's lessen, until finally the voices begin to make sense, to take faces, and he finds himself staring wide eyed up at Scott and the rest of the pack, as well as Deaton, John and Melissa.

 

Derek blinks up at them a moment in clear confusion. 'What..."

 

 

"You're going to feel some lightheadedness and confusion. Most likely some nausea for a bit." Deaton speak's up then.

 

Derek look's at the man with a frown, his nostril's flaring as a familiar scent catches his nose. He turn's his head to look at a little steel table where some medical contraption sits, something like a pump with a tube at each end and needles. He scents his and Scott's blood again and his frown deepens. "What..."

 

 

"We had to give you a transfusion. You lost a lot while Melissa was bleeding you of the Slaugh's infection." 

 

Everything hit's Derek then, and his eyes shoot wide as he jerk's up again. He cringes when the world spin's slightly and before he can topple over the table Scott is pushing him softly back down. "Stiles! Where is Stiles?!" Derek searching their faces, seeking out pale, mole dotted skin, but does not find it, and his gut clenches painfully. He turns to Scott, his eyes pleading. "Scott where is Stiles."

 

Scott flinches and turns to John, who look's an absolute mess, and it's clear the man has been crying. "Derek...The Slaugh took him."

 

Derek suck's in a panicked inhale, still for about a full three seconds before pushing Scott aside and stumbling off of the table. "We have to find him! We can't just - " His breathing goes shallow as his steps falter unsteadily.  "Why the  _fuck_ haven't you gone for him?!" He rages at everyone - his eyes shifting blue, and is met with agonized stares. He feels himself slipping sideways then, and arms come around him and help him back to the table. But Derek does not lie back down. He can't. He can't just lay there when Stiles was in danger. So leaning against it he tries to blink past the dizzy vision, gritting his teeth in frustration of his own body. 

 

"You need to relax, Derek. Deaton had to put you in a coma while we rid the infection from your body." Scott said softly, warily, hands up and trying to look nonthreatening. 

 

Derek hissed and jerked his gaze to the doctor, who was just standing back, arms crossed over his chest, watching everyone. "And the transfusions?"

 

"We all took turns." Malia said then. "You lost so much blood. You wouldn't have survived if we hadn't."

 

Derek turned to look at everyone, noticing that even John and Melissa had small bandages on their inner elbows, and cringed. "How long?"

 

Scott took a deep breath, licking his lips nervously. "Derek, man it took a while for Deaton to-"

 

"HOW LONG?!"

 

"Four hours." John was the one who finally answered, his voice hoarse.

 

 

Derek's eyes bulged and he choked out in disbelief. "Four hours?! And no one has found him yet?!"

 

 

"We can't." John nearly screamed, though Derek had a feeling the anger was directed more so towards himself, as if he couldn't stand the fact that he had no idea where his son was, or how to find him. 

 

"We've all taken turns trying to pick up his scent, but it's like it vanished the moment the Slaugh took him." Liam said, frustrated.

 

"We put out an APB but so far we've got nothing." Parrish spoke up, holding onto Lydia who looked like she was ready to fucking crumble.

 

"But you can find him son." John stood, arms outstretched as he moved to Derek. He did not touch him though, just held them out in front of him, and it reminded Derek so much of Stiles that he felt sick. "Deaton say's that you have a way to find him. This connection the two of you have."

 

Derek shook his head with a scowl, turning to the doctor. "What?"

 

"It's true. Scott tell's me you have mated with Stiles. If that's true it will have strengthened the bond the two of you share considerably, and with a little practice, you should be able to track him down using the link."

 

Derek sucked in a deep, sharp inhale, his lips drawing back in a scowl, and then before anyone knew what he was doing he grabbed the chair nearest him and swung it through the glass with a roar, swinging on Deaton with glowing blue eyes. " _Does it look like we have fucking time for 'practice' Deaton?!_ " He hovered over the man, his chest rising and falling in quick successions. "I need to find him  _now._ And you're going to tell me how."

 

Scott stepped forward, his eyes flashing red, getting ready to pull Derek back if he needed to, but Deaton just shook his head softly at Scott and fully faced Derek. "Even though you are mated now, something like this isn't automatically achieved. The bond would normally strengthen between the two of you over time. But -" He drew off with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. "I understand that the situation is a bit...dire. I believe there is a way I could sort of jump start the bond. Strengthen it without having to wait for that ability to evolve."

 

"Well what are you waiting for?"

 

Deaton sighed again, but nodded. "We won't be able to do it here. You'll have to come with me. This location isn't suitable. Plus I'll need to go to my home and retrieve a book. This spell could be considered taboo to a great many people. I tend to keep all my tomes containing taboo spell work at home." It was the closest to mocking that Deaton ever got, but his point was made, anyways. 

 

"I don't  _care_ where we go, as long as we go  _now_."

 

The Druid nodded in understanding, slipping his lab coat off. "Only Derek can be present for the ritual. It will have to take place at the preserve. Luckily the moon is already out so we won't have to wait for that at least. Unfortunately it look's like we'll be rained on while doing it."

 

"Again. Don't care!" Scott was calling his name then and Derek turned to catch the key's that the Alpha threw at him.

 

"The Camero's at the loft still. Take my bike."

 

Derek gripped the key's in his fist, nodding in thanks to Scott, and turned to follow Deaton out. As he did though, he paused, his eyes landing on the Sheriff. The man looked close to a break down, and in that moment Derek felt more close to him than he ever had. "Don't worry." Derek drew out, his glare one of determination. "I'll get him back."

 

John clenched his jaw, trying to hold his emotions in check, before suddenly moving forward and throwing his arms around Derek. Everyone stared in shocked silence, while Derek froze, his eyebrows high. After a awkward second he lifted a hand to place on John's back and the man patted his own. He pulled back then, looking at Derek with hard eyes. "Thank you."

 

Derek stood there a moment, feeling a strange clenching in his gut, before he finally nodded and then followed after Deaton. 

 

 

*********************************

 

 

After the third time coming back to consciousness, Stiles realizes that if he doesn't do something  _now_ \- he's going to die. And all because Ryan was such a dumb ass that he didn't know that after being hung so long from your wrist, you would die from lack of oxygen. Which is why Stiles is having a particularly hard time breathing. It doesn't help that his chest and stomach feel like they are being stabbed repeatedly. Yeah. This day officially sucked. He had annoyingly been unconscious most of the time, and the few moment's of clarity he had were dazed and slightly confused. Which was why he had to take advantage of his moment of clarity. Like, immediately. He had considered just using the weight of his body to break his own tumbs and force his hands from the shackles, but honestly he didn't have nowhere enough foot to ground passage to enable him to jump. As it was only the tips of his freaking toes touched the wet cement. That unfortunately left only one option, and it was much more damaging and time consuming. The damaging he could deal with, cause if he was being honest, he wasn't going to walk away from this unharmed. If he'd ever be able to use his wrist properly again it would be a miracle. And yeah, that sucked, but it wasn't the end of the world, right? No. 

 

So. Game plan. 

 

Stiles hung close to the wall of the building, which was only about five feet away. The wall had a rather large hole in it, opening to another section of the building. If he could swing himself over to the hole - which was just large enough for his body to fit through, then he could kind of use the other side of the wall as a sort of anchor, pushing against it with his feet which will hopefully be enough force for him to pop his thumbs out of place and get free. It's going to suck, cause he's going to immediately bust his ass (hopefully not his head) on the hard cement floor, but it's all he's got.

 

And all of this is  _if_ he can manage to swing over.  _If_ he can manage to scurry through the hole. And  _if_ he can get enough force to pull himself lose. 

 

There were a shit ton of if's there, Stiles knew. 

 

He also knew that he was physically exhausted and hurt. His arms and hands numb and his stomach and chest in intense pain. His leg's were also pin's and needle's. 

 

Honestly, this would be one of those super cool things you seen in action movies but that you knew would never really happen in real life.

 

But this was real life. And Stiles had to do  _something._ He wasn't going to just sit around and wait for the Slaugh to come back and suck out more of his Stiles Juice. Okay. That just sounded wrong. 

 

But that was another thing. Where the hell  _was_ Ryan? Stiles had no way of telling how much time had passed, but it was still raining and dark outside, so he figured it hadn't been that much. But the fact that Ryan would leave him at all felt...wrong. Stiles couldn't help the building fear that  the creature had gone back for his friends, to finish it's job, and that was what kept Stiles going. What made him decide to attempt this incredibly unbelievable feat that only John Claude Van Damn would be able to do. Cause let's face it - man was a beast. 

 

Trying to suck in air through painful lungs, Stiles clenched his jaw in determination and awkwardly tried to get his legs to swing out. He grunted as pain shot straight to his stomach and his legs tingled - on fire - but kept at it, and eventually it shifted from looking incredibly laughable into a sway, and then he was swinging his legs out with more force, trying to will his body to hold out even though it felt like he would pass out at any minute. Sweat rolled heavy from his forehead, blurring his vision, and Stiles blinked rapidly through it's stinging touch. He was close to the hole now, only a bit more. A bit harder. Grunting he put his whole body into it, and his feet grazed the brick. He cried out immediately and used the contact to propel himself backwards with more force, and that next swing his leg's went through. And then the lower half of his body was colliding with the other side of the wall, his head smacking hard against the top of the opening and Stiles swore, his vision going black a moment. Luckily he did not fall out of the hole and just hung there, but the pain to his head was something fierce and it took everything he had to stay awake through it. When the worst of it had vanished he managed to flip around with a grunt until his face was all but plastered against the brick. He carefully put his feet against the edge of the hole, feeling around until he had a good grip to push against and stand on. Licking his lips he tried to calm his painfully racing heart, because he knew the next part was going to suck. Or then again maybe it wouldn't. His hands were numb after all. He may not even feel his thumbs when they dislocated. 

 

Another reason it would suck, though,  _was_ because his hands were numb, and specifically his wrist were broken. If they weren't he could have just applied pressure to his thumbs to dislocate them. Actually why go through that trouble? If his wrist's weren't broken he could have worked to get himself upside down and used the ceiling to pull the chains from their position. The falling down part would have sucked, yeah, but it would have been the easiest way out by far. Now he was going to have to exert himself even more by pulling at the chains in the hopes that his thumbs just popped out of place on their owns. It wasn't going to be easy. At all. That was a lot of pressure he would have to apply, and a lot of straining. It was really be a miracle if he didn't pass out. 

 

Figuring it's pointless to linger Stiles stared up at his purple hands which held no circulation and after taking a steadying breath, jerked backwards and pushed against the wall with all his might. Pain shatter's through every inch of his body immediately, and Stiles cries out loudly from it, but he does not hesitate. He can't. Too much is at stake. Grinding his teeth he glares up at the shackles, horrified at the way his already purple hands are growling increasingly more so as his skin stretches angrily, his fingers squishing together. It helps that he's drenched from the rainfall and covered in slick sweat, and when he see's his hands give just a bit it's enough to make all the pain worth it, and he gives a shaky laugh before grunting and pulling harder. His leg's are shaking hard and he's scared that any second now they'll give out completely and he'll just hang there against the wall, too weak to do anything but wait for the Slaugh to come back. And his shoulder's are hurting now. Like...a lot. He vaguely panics, worrying that instead of his thumbs, they'll dislocate first and leave him in an even worse situation. The fear is so strong that he's almost to the point of giving up, when he hear's a loud snap and suddenly one hand is jerking free. Stiles gasped, and his side slam's into the brick wall from the loss of the manacle holding him up evenly. He grunts against the brick, and almost tries to press against the wall with his hand, but remembers that his wrist is broke so instead lays his arm against it, using it as leverage and pull's again. After a few moment's another sharp snap sounds, and then suddenly he's falling backwards and Stiles has just enough smarts to try and curl his body in a bit and keep his head towards his chest before he hits, landing hard on his back. 

 

The agonizing pain is so profound that he can't even cry out, and just lay's there, his mouth open and his eyes wide, unseeing. He rolls to his side, curling in on himself on instinct as his mouth twist's back and he finally chokes out a sob. Stiles has had some damage done to him before. He may be human, but he knows how to take a beating. But this? Everything else pales in comparison to this. This is the most pain he has ever felt, and it leaves him breathless, shaking, his teeth chattering against one another loudly. He fear's he's going into shock. And that really blows because without medical treatment it will only get worse. He shut's his eyes, whimpering slightly as cold chill's run over his body even as sweat cover's his skin. In the back of his head he pretends that it's just a panic attack. He's been through plenty of panic attacks. He knows how to get through those. He focuses on breathing through his belly, urging his limbs to stay lose even though they want to lock up. He sucks in deep breaths, counting in his head the length of each inhale and exhale. "Come on Stiles - can't give up now.....you got this....just breathe."

 

In his head, he  _knows_ it's more than a panic attack. He  _knows_ that it's shock. But he also knows that he can't let it take over him. He can't let it stop him. The command is so strong within him that he's filled with stubborn determination, and somehow, it works. His teeth eventually stop chattering, and though he's still cold, it's not the kind of cold that leaves his body shaking violently. The cold sweat passes over him, and when it's all done he feel's weak and slightly numb, but he's okay. Actually, even his stomach and chest don't hurt nowhere near as much. Letting out a shaky breath Stiles slowly lift's his body until he's sitting on the wet floor. He just breathe's a few minutes, his arm's still annoyingly numb and he can't do anything with them but let them hang there uselessly. He know's they'll  eventually get circulation back in them, and that makes him feel slightly better. He'd feel great if he didn't know that once the circulation  _did_ come back he'd have new pain's to deal with. Oh well. Can't win for losing, right?

 

Forcing himself up he struggles on unsteady legs a moment, licking his dry, chapped lips. They sting painfully and what he wouldn't do for some chap-stick in that moment. Cherry flavor. Cause that original stuff tasted like dog ass. The thought brings a sudden and nearly hysterical laugh from his throat, and Stiles walk's unsteadily forward chuckling to himself. Okay - so maybe that analogy hadn't been too great. Cause let's be honest, if he somehow survived tonight, in the very near future he'd be all over some 'dog' ass. Cause yeah, while he got that Derek was all 'Rawr I'm big and strong and you are obviously lower than me on the food chain', he'd be lying if he said he hadn't though about topping that before. Let's face it, Derek's ass was something magical. Man must do some monster squats. And if Stiles was being completely honest, he  _reeeeeeally_ wanted to see the look on Derek's face when he suggested it. Cause -yeah,  _that_ would be something to tattoo into the brain. 

 

Not that he hadn't enjoyed having Derek's dick inside of him. Cause he had. A lot. Like...a lot a lot. Even if he still kind of wanted to run and hide when he saw the thing - and was this  _really_ a good time for him to be talking to himself about Derek's dick? Cause it would be a 'long' conversation.

 

 

......

 

 

..........

 

 

He had just went there.

 

"Oh my - Jesus Stiles. Come on man! Concentrate!" He shook himself, clearing his head and pushing the thought's aside until a more opportune time. One where his life was not in immediate danger. He had to get the hell out of the building and find a payphone or something. Did they even have payphones anymore? Eh, he was sure there was a convince store nearby (hopefully) that would take pity on him and let him call Derek. 

 

He unconsciously glanced down to his chest, and saw through the shredded material of his shirt that the sigil was still there. Every time he looked at it he was filled with hope. He was still worried about Derek, though. The man had looked at death's door, and even though he was a werewolf and had that healing capabilities to rival Wolverine, he had a feeling that he still wouldn't be getting off too easy. Stiles haltered then, his eyes shooting wide as a horrific thought filled him. What if...what if he was infected? He would feel that, right? With their link? Stiles closed his eyes and immediately searched within himself, digging deep until he could all but see the invisible thread between them. He examined it a bit, playing with it like he never had before. He tugged at it and gasped when a moment later he felt warm surge into his chest. When he opened his eyes again he was crying, because he  _knew_ that Derek had felt him and was sending some weird bonding message back through the link. And holy fucking shit it felt so good. Jesus it was like the most beautiful sensation he had ever experienced. He laughed happily, overjoyed. Oh yeah. He would definitely be fiddling with the link in the future. Seeing what all he would be able to do with it.

 

His heart even lighter and his will stronger, Stiles tried to push his leg's faster, nearly tripping every few moments, but that was okay. Sensation was coming back to his arms, and like he had imagined, they were starting to hurt like a bitch. But that was okay too. He was going to get out of there. He was going to find Derek and his friends and they were going to find out how to defeat the Slaugh. Once and for all. 

 

Stiles was moving towards a flight of stairs when he felt something cold and invasive growing at his back, and he froze, his eyes shooting wide. He briefly told himself to just run. To run down the stairs and hope the entrance to the building would be there for him. That the Slaugh wouldn't catch him. That despite his injuries and fatigue he would be fast enough. 

 

But then Stiles heard the faint sound of someone whimpering, and he jerked around with wide eyes, his heart stilling in it's beat.

 

The Slaugh was not alone.

 

 

***************************************************

 

 

"I felt him!" Derek shouted out suddenly, startling Deaton so greatly that the man jolted in drawing the circle around him, glaring through the rain.

 

"What?"

 

"Stiles. I felt him!" Derek shouted again, his mouth split wide in a relieved grin. "I felt him through the bond!" He was okay. Thank god. Or at least as well as he could. It didn't matter. He was well enough to consciously use the bond to try and communicate, and that meant everything to Derek. He was still worried. Nearly insane from it. But he couldn't help the surge of hope that filled him with the realization. They were going to do this. Everything was going to be okay. They were going to save Stiles and defeat the Slaugh and everyone would be alright. Derek didn't care what Lydia said. No one was going to die tonight. 

 

"Good!" Deaton yelled over the onslaught of rain. "The bond is already strong between the two of you. That mean's the spell will be that much easier!"

 

Derek nodded, lifting a hand to idly touch the sigil on his chest. In that moment it was more than just a mark or a brand. It was a life line. It was his connection to Stiles, and he treasured it. He remembered earlier that night when he and Stiles had been laying in bed. If he was right Stiles had been about to tell him he loved him. At the time Derek had been nervous, expectant and a little scared. Not anymore. The first chance he got he was going to tell the boy. He was so done with holding things back. Life was too fucking short. He had never been more aware of that.

 

And yeah, maybe he had also been stressing over a possible future with Stiles because he knew the boy wanted to leave after graduation, and Derek didn't know what that meant for him.

 

But honestly, what was the big fucking problem? It's not like Derek had  _that_ strong a tie to Beacon Hills. Yeah, it was where his family had been from. It was where he had grown up. But he had also run away from it so many damn times. He'd had a love hate relationship with the town ever since Paige. 

 

If Stiles did decide to leave, then Derek would just go with him. And that realization may have scared him a bit before, but now? Now the thought of going to some new city with Stiles, starting out fresh, getting a place together...it was  _so_ fucking appealing. Derek yearned for it. 

 

"Are you ready?" Deaton was before him then, just outside of the circle, holding a flashlight over a very old looking tome that was getting rained on, and Derek knew that really must annoy the shit out of the man.

 

He nodded, not wanting to waste anymore time.

 

"When the spell start's you may fill a bit...uncomfortable."

 

Derek snorted, rolling his eyes. "What's new."

 

One side of Deaton's lips drew up in a slight grin. "Well then - let's get started, shall we?"

 

 

 

 

 

 


	53. Sacrifice Pt 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Slaugh makes an offer to Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for late adittion guys. I have REALLY bad days when i fall off the Redbull wagon and drink like 5 or 6 a day and for the next two day's I'm basically crashing 24/7 lol and I'm going through one of those :(

Stiles stood, feeling like the air around him had been sucked away, leaving his chest tight and painful. Time itself seemed to freeze; standing still and looking on in horror. Across from him the Slaugh dropped the small child he had gripped in it's spidery long arms, and Stiles flinched when he heard the girl, who couldn't be more than seven, whimper and curl in on herself, even as she couldn't stop the vomit that spilled from her throat from the instant transportation. When she had emptied her stomach she lay there in a little ball, arms tight around her knee's as her body shook uncontrollably, her eyes shut tightly. Stiles recognized the position. The girl was hoping that this was all just a nightmare. That any minute now she would wake up. But she wouldn't, because this was real. Ryan had kidnapped her, and Stiles knew that whatever the Slaugh had planned, it wasn't good.

 

"What are you doing?" He choked out, unable to draw his gaze away from the little blonde haired girl. 

 

The Slaugh's jaw opened in a wide, disturbed grin, and Stiles' gut clenched at the sight of it and what it could mean. "While you were sleeping, I had time to think." The Slaugh moved towards Stiles, and the boy backed away immediately, his eyes wide. "If I were to keep you, to feed from you, there's always a chance I will infect you. That you would die."

 

Stiles shook his head quickly. "You said I was strong enough, remember? That I wouldn't die." Normally, he would have been overjoyed at the idea of the Slaugh possibly changing it's mind. But for some reason Stiles felt that in this case it was somehow more worse. He cast a glance over to the small child to make sure she was okay. She was still crying, but it was silent sobs, her incredibly large blue eyes locked on the creature that was most likely something from her nightmares. Stiles prayed that by the end of this she ended up safely back in her bed, and woke up in the morning thinking this all a bad dream.

 

"But there's always a chance. I don't want to take that chance. Not with you. My  _Stiles_."

 

Stiles shivered in disgust at the loving way the Slaugh spoke his name, wanting to wrap his arms around his middle. As it was they hurt so bad now he could barely move them, and his wrist were swollen and discolored. There was no way he could fight off the Slaugh. Not like this. No way he could help the girl... "Then just  _let me go._ Let me take the girl with me. You can leave Beacon Hills. We won't come after you I promise. Just...just let us go. Please?"

 

The Slaugh eyed him a moment, it's blood red gaze trailing over him before suddenly it had jerked the girl up in it's arms, and Stiles let out a cry, stepping forward as his heart raced. The little girl screamed, feet kicking and hands outstretched towards Stiles, her eyes wide and horrified. She was all but begging for Stiles to help her, and it fucking  _killed_  him that he was so useless. That under the circumstances she could put up more of a fight then he could. 

 

"Wait! No - no! Don't hurt her, Ryan. Ryan, please!"

 

The Slaugh curled it's lipless mouth into a razor sharp grin, tilting it's head slightly to drag in a deep inhale against the girl's head. "They taste so sweet. So pure. Even more pure than you. Too bad they aren't as strong as you."

 

"Stop! Don't hurt her. I'll go with you, alright? Anywhere you want just - just please let her go." His voice broke into a strangled cry, and Stiles felt like he was losing his mind a little, like all of this was just  _too much_  and he wouldn't be able to handle it. 

 

"You're coming with me regardless."

 

"Then put her down! You don't need her. You're going to feed off of me, remember?"

 

"Oh, she's not for me." A low, dark chuckle filled the air around them. 

 

Stiles felt his throat close up and his stomach clench painfully. "What?"

 

"She's for you."

 

For him? "I don't-" He shook his head, because none of this made any sense. What was Ryan expecting him to do with the girl? Not that he would ever hurt her. Was this some fucked up initiation thing? Did Ryan want him to kill the girl? If so, he was more monster than Stiles had even thought.

 

"I figured it out. A way to keep you with me always." One very long claw slid down the girl's cheek, and Stiles hissed when he saw a thin trail of blood in it's wake.

 

The girl had ceased in her scream's not too long ago, and was not just hanging there limply. Stiles would have thought she had passed out, but he could see her eyes. Open and staring down at the ground. Lost. She was too far gone in this nightmare and had retreated to some place in her mind. Stiles wanted to cry. "I'll go with you. I swear. So whatever you've planned just - you don't have to do it, okay? You can't do this. She's just a kid."

 

"Like children can't be cruel?!" The Slaugh hissed in anger, snapping it's teeth. "I felt their cruelty all through my childhood!"

 

"They are  _kids!"_  Stiles pleaded, trying to make him see reason. "They don't know any better! You can't punish her for that. She had nothing to do with the one's who hurt you."

 

"This isn't about punishment. This is about you. If I do this, then you'll have no choice but to stay with me."

 

" _Do what?!"_  He couldn't take it anymore. This was quickly spiraling downward and Stiles felt like if something didn't change that, then it would be too late. Too late to save the girl. And if something happened to her he would never forgive himself. Everything inside of him screamed  _protect_. It was in his freaking genetic makeup somehow. But there was more to it than that. It was like somehow Stiles knew it was what he was meant for. Right now in his life at least. It was why he did so many stupid things that made the rest of the pack so freaking mad at him. There was just something burning so bright within him that when it came down to it, his body automatically moved on it's own. Stiles felt something shift within him slightly, just a soft whisper against his soul. Like something sliding gently into place, and his breath hitched slightly from it.

 

" _I'm going to make you like me, Stiles."_

 

Stiles felt like he had been punched in the chest. He flinched hard, his chest squeezing tight. "You can't do that. It's not possible." But was it? Jesus Christ could he? There was still so much that they didn't know about the Slaugh, so much that didn't make sense. Was it possible for Ryan to change someone? To turn them? 

 

The Slaugh dropped the girl, and Stiles cringed when he heard her hit the cement hard. He wanted to run to her, to make sure she was okay, but Ryan was advancing on him, wicked glee in his eyes. "It's true I've never tried it, but I think it's worth the risk. I'll drain you nearly dry, Stiles. And then infect you with my darkness until you're so full you're almost bursting!"

 

Stiles stumbled backwards, his eyes large. "No. You can't do this."

 

"And then when you're like me you'll feed off of the girl. We can feed from her together!" 

 

Oh god he was going to be sick. What Ryan was forcefully offering was horrific. He'd rather die. After the Nogitsune he had sworn he would never let himself hurt anyone again, no matter what. The thought of becoming like Ryan, of turning into some nightmarish creature that fed off of souls, infected them and killed other's...This time when his chest began to hurt and his breathing to grow uneven he knew that it was in fact a panic attack.  "You can't do this to me. It will kill me, Ryan." 

 

Ryan seemed to understand that he hadn't necessarily meant physically. "You will get used to it. You will start to like it, too. Some people  _deserve_  to die." 

 

Stiles cried out as his foot tripped over some stray wood and he found himself going down. He gasped in sharp pain as he fell on one of his hands, his vision going blurry and his stomach churning as nausea rushed over him from the intensity of it. "No....I can't do this. I'll kill myself first."

 

"I'll never let that happen." He could feel the Slaugh crouch over him, feel it run it's bony hands on his body, and then suddenly that changed, until he felt smooth, normal hands grasping his face. 

 

Stiles gasped again, blinking his eyes hard to try and clear his vision. Ryan had changed back to his human form, and was crouched over him, naked, touching his face with an expression so gentle that Stiles felt whip lashed from it. He was so confused all he could do was sit there, eyes wide. 

 

"I'll even accommodate you. There are people who  _deserve_  to die. Bad people. It will be easy for us to find them. I know automatically when a soul is pure or not. We can feed off of the one's whose souls are already clouded. We'll be doing people a  _favor_." 

 

Stiles gave a disgusted laugh, finally trying to scoot away from Ryan. "So that makes it okay, then? Killing people? This is how you're actually trying to convince me?" He was mad. Insane. Did he honestly believe that Stiles would give in and agree to it? That the thought of killing bad people would make it better for him?  " _You're sick._ I'll never agree to this." _  
_

 

"That's the thing, Stiles...you don't have to agree." 

 

Stiles cried out as Ryan slammed him backwards until his back hit the wet cement. He struggled, trying to flip around and crawl away, but Ryan was on top of him, holding him down with his weight and with the way Stiles hands were, he couldn't do much to fight him. One of his hands curled around his neck, holding him in place, while his other grasped Stiles' jaw and began to tug it downwards. Stiles ground his teeth together instantly, locking his jaw. He felt his eyes stinging with tears as he tried to twist his head around, to turn his face away and stop Ryan from doing something that would forever ruin Stiles. He was just now getting over the event's of the Nogitsune. Just now feeling like himself again after going through such hell. Only to have this happen? It was a cruel twist of fate. He was so tired to feeling like the universe's bitch. So tired of being a rag doll, unable to direct his own life. He'd had enough of it. Stiles wanted to carve out his own way, to stop feeling like he was stumbling down a preordained path that held no off trails. This could  _not_  be what he had come so far for. He refused to believe it. 

 

Ryan's finger's dug deep into his skin, and managed to work his jaw open. Stiles started screaming immediately, a loud, crazed sound that was his only defense. The noise bubbled up from his very soul, and was thunderous protest against what Ryan wanted to do. Stiles mind went blank, void of anything but panicked refusal and desperation, and when he realized that he would not be able to physically stop Ryan, he found himself slipping deep within his body. Not retreating. He would never retreat. But  _searching_. Looking for something that he both knew and had no idea of. Something that he could use, because as selfless as Stiles could be, in that moment he only wanted to protect  _himself._  And then, suddenly, he found it. A flickering source of energy, warm and comforting against his conscious. Something strong, yet shielding. Stiles grasped onto the source tight and tugged, finding it giving without the slightest hesitation and sliding like a caress within his body towards the surface and then bursting outwards through his skin. 

 

Stiles gasped as white hot energy erupted outwards from him in a wave so strong that it sent Ryan flying backwards through the air. Stiles gaped at the sight, watching as the man sailed more and more until finally hitting the wall far across from him. For a moment he just sat there, jaw dropped and eyes huge, and then it was like something in him screamed  _Run!._   He struggled to get up and ran over to the girl, nearly tripping over his own feet. Crouching next to her he saw that she was still awake, her body shaking in fear. "I know you're scared but you have to  _get up_." He hissed, trying to grab onto her but cringing when all it got him was intense pain in his hands and wrist's. The girl whimpered, curling in on herself more tightly, and Stiles nearly started crying from desperation, chancing a glance behind him and seeing that Ryan was still lying still on the floor. He turned back to the girl, leaning closer and tried to speak as softly but firmly as he could. "I can't help you unless you get up. Do you understand that?  _You need to get up."_ Maybe it had been something in his voice that had finally snapped the girl from her fear induced daze, because she began to blink rapidly before slowly turning to look up at him with wide eyes, and Stiles laughed in relief, crying a bit at the same time. "Yeah it's okay. We're going to get out of here, alright? I need you to climb on my back though. My wrist's are hurt and I can't pick you up. Come on we have to do it now!" 

 

The girl paused a moment, staring up at him as if she wasn't sure if she could trust him, and then the next moment she was jerking up from the ground, her large eyes scanning the area until she saw Ryan lying down across from them. If the sight of him in his human form confused her she didn't say anything about it, just whimpered and scurried around him until she was at his back, and Stiles tried to stay still as she climbed up him, wrapping her arms and leg's so tight around him that he had a little trouble breathing. 

 

"Good girl. Okay we've got this. We're going to be fine." He put his arms back to try and support her weight a bit, and through his wrist's hurt when they crossed he ignored the pain. He struggled to stand a moment before finally his two legs were steady enough for him to move. He looked back at Ryan As he ran, hope filling him at the sight of the naked boy still passed out. They were actually going to get away. He had no idea how his dad was going to deal with the little girl, though. She had seen things that she would never be able to forget, and would most likely tell the police. Why wouldn't she? Stiles just hoped that it could be roped into a child's fearful delusions from being kidnapped. He had a feeling that of all the possible way's the world could find out about the supernatural, the discovery of the Slaugh would most likely end in disaster. Soul sucking monster's that made people violently crazy was kind of hard to take after all.

 

"I want my mommy."

 

The girl's soft, trembled voice whimpered in his ear and Stiles nodded knowing, trying to shush her and calm her down a bit. "Believe me, Kiddo, I know the feeling. And I'm going to get you to her, okay? I swear I will." And he would. Even if he died trying. 

 

"Was that a monster?" 

 

Stiles sighed, looking around him a moment as he came to the bottom of the stairs. The room was dark and offered no hint as to where the exit was. On pure instinct he started for the left, heading down a rather large hall that had room's branching off of it and wondered where the hell he was anyways. He considered lying to the girl, telling her that this was all just some bad dream, but felt like she was most likely too smart to believe such bullshit. Stiles know he would have been. So he decided to settle for the truth, and hoped it didn't blow up in his face. "What's your name, kid?"

 

The little girl sniffled in his ear. "Maggie."

 

"Maggie. Nice name. And yes, Maggie. That was a monster. Unfortunately some are real. But that's okay!" He hurriedly said when he felt the girl tense against his back and bury her face in his neck. "You know why that's okay?"

 

The girl lifted her face slightly, pouting down at him before shaking her head.

 

"It's okay because I'm a monster hunter. And I'm not the only one, either! There are lot's of us. We hunt down monsters and keep people safe. It's kind of our thing, you know?"

 

Maggie sniffled quietly a moment as Stiles maneuvered his way through he building, popping his head into room's and searching for an exit, all the while continuously looking over his shoulder to make sure Ryan wasn't chasing them. "Is there a girl monster hunter?"

 

Stiles couldn't help but grin. "Girl power, huh? Go you. Bet your butt there is. And one of the most beautiful girls ever. She's got long red hair and is killer smart. Like, maybe smarter than me, but don't tell her I said that, okay?" At the little girl's weak laugh he smiled. "And then there's this super awesome girl whose got some major skills with a sword. She's pretty hardcore. And then another who is so strong it's like she's not even human!" Okay, so yeah, technically Malia wasn't human, but he didn't want to say that just in case Maggie freaked out. 

 

"Are you superhero's?"

 

Oh, he really liked this kid. Her parents were doing a splendid job so far. "Damn right we are."

 

Maggie was quiet a moment before she spoke again, and her voice was muttered, huffy. "Mom say's when grown ups swear they have to put a dollar in the swear jar."

 

Stiles snorted, shaking his head with a crooked grin. "Well how about when I get you back to her, I'll be sure to hand over that dollar for you, okay?"

 

She seemed to be okay with that, and nodded her head before wrapping her arms more tightly around his neck and burying her face against his skin again. Even though her grip was near strangling again, Stiles was grateful for it. He stumbled through a room, nearly tripping over some wood and about went face forward if his shoulder hadn't slammed into a doorway. While it hurt like a bit he imagined falling face first with about fifty or so pounds on his back would have been even worse. He was running down another wide hallway when he glanced slightly to the left and skidded to a stop, his eyes widening at the large double doors to his right. Was that...holy shit it was the entrance! Really wishing he could give a fist pump of victory Stiles changed his course and slammed his feet against the ground, rushing towards the doors. He was maybe ten feet away from them when suddenly they burst open, chains that must have locked the outside sliding across the floor and stopping at his bare, bloodied feet. Stiles looked up from the chains with wide eyes and felt his breath hitch. He nearly dropped Maggie when his arms slumped at his side and his body relaxed, almost as if his body had whispered  _finally_ and all the fight had went out of him. Luckily Maggie wrapped her legs around him with a crushing intensity and looked up over her shoulder's with wide eyes.

 

"Are those your monster hunting friends?"

 

Oh my god. Stiles was going to cry. In fact, he may have already been. "Yeah." He said, laughing. "See, I told you we were going to be okay."

 

Across from him everyone moved at once, and Stiles felt his father take hold of Maggie, pulling him into his own arms even while he was looking over Stiles with a worried frown, near distraught. Stiles cried out in pain the first time someone touched his hands, and then he heard collective growls when the pack noticed how alarmingly swollen and bruised his wrist's were. He felt large but gentle hands on his face then, tugging his gaze slightly upwards and Stiles wanted to whimper when he found himself looking up into gorgeous eyes a turbulent combination of various green's. He locked his jaw to keep himself from crying and laid his forehead on Derek's shoulder, sucking in a deep breath of air, drawing the man's scent far into his chest as hands stroked alongside his back and shoulders, even his head. Stiles loved it. He did not want to pull away, but he knew he had to. They were all still in danger. Forcing his head up he looked up at Derek, his eyes hard. "He's upstairs still. He - I did something, I'm not sure what, but....he was passed out and we ran."

 

Scott's eyes flared red at once, and Stiles watched as his father directed Maggie around so the girl would not see, holding her head to his shoulder. "I'm going to kill him." Scott and the rest of them were already moving away from Stiles and heading further into the building almost simultaneously, as if they were one.

 

Suddenly Stiles found himself pushed forwards towards the Sheriff, and frowned up at Derek. "What?"

 

"Get him out of here.  _Now."_ Derek didn't look at him, just nodded at his father like he expected the Sheriff to follow his order, and Stiles was even more shocked when his dad nodded and gently curled his hand around his bicep.

 

"Come on we've got to get you two out of here. And you're going to tell me exactly how a little girl got pulled into this mess."

 

Stiles pulled back, shaking his head. "I can't leave everyone." He turned to look over his shoulder, but saw that everyone had already vanished, and he felt himself start to panic. What is Ryan had woken up? What if he was waiting for them now? His friends were in danger! He couldn't just leave!

 

"Stiles." His father drew out in a warning tone that Stiles recognized. A tone that said there was no room to argue. "We're leaving  _now_. There is a little girl here, do you get that?  _She's terrified._ We're going to the station now. Come on."

 

Stiles felt his dad grab onto his arm again, this time tighter, before pulling him towards the entrance, and Stiles stumbled after him with wide eyes, for the moment reverted to nothing but a teenager who knew he had to follow his dad's words or he would be in a shit load of trouble. Even Maggie was looking up at him with slight fear in her eyes, and Stiles winced in sympathy for the girl. His dad could be pretty scary when he wanted. 

 

Stiles stopped when they came to his dad's cruiser, watching as the man opened the door and sat Maggie in. He glanced briefly around, squinting through the rain and seeing that they were at a section of town that people hardly doze through. One where it was mostly abandoned buildings that animals took shelter in. He turned back to look at his dad, watching as the man spoke softly to Maggie, brushing her wet hair from her face with a smile, and his heart clenched. He hated making his dad worry. So freaking much. But he couldn't just leave. He knew that they would never do that to him, and he'd be damned if he left them there to himself. Sparing one last look at his dad Stiles twisted around and ran back up to the building, hearing his father swear loudly and scream out is name behind him. He ignored it, bursting through the entrance and back down the hallway towards the stairs. Suddenly he heard Malia's howl of pain from upstairs and looked upwards with wide eyes, wiling his feet to carry him faster, trying to recognize the room's he had went through and backtrack. Finally the staircase came into view and he rushed to it, taking the stairs two at a time as he heard the sound of fighting. When he was close to the top he saw Liam go sailing through the air, landing close to the steps with a groan. Stiles gasped, stumbling up the remaining stairs and running over to him. Liam was up before Stiles even had time to kneel beside him, his eyes flashing yellow and then he was up and running towards the fray again.

 

Stiles twisted around and took in the scene before him with wide eyes. Ryan was back in his monster from, and was  _ripping_ into the pack. It was like he was in a frenzy, claws slashing at anyone that came close, tossing bodies through the air and even digging his razor jaws into flesh. Stiles shivered at the sight, thinking that if Ryan had been crazy before, he had truly snapped now. He watched as Lydia opened her mouth and the beginning of a scream rung out, but the Slaugh was on her instantly, it's overly large hand wrapping around her head and slamming her backwards onto the ground. Stiles choked out a cry when he heard the horrific sound of Lydia's head as it hit the cement. The Slaugh jerked it's gaze up at him instantly, even as Kira ran her blade through it's back. Stiles stumbled backwards with wide eyes, watching as the Slaugh just   _walked off of the blade_ , jerking it's body free of the steel and started full out running towards him.  Derek, who had been on the ground, immediately roared with a force louder than Stiles had ever heard, and then the wolf was off of the ground, rushing out and tackling the Slaugh, the two of them rolling, clawing and biting at each other. Scott and the other's rushed to help, all of them joining Derek and for once it looked like they had the upper hand. 

 

Stiles tore his eyes away from them and rushed to Lydia. Parrish was re holstering his gun and dropping down beside her, pushing her hair from her face and calling her name. Stiles crouched at the other side, his large eyes going over her face. She was breathing, but was unconscious, and would not wake up. 

 

"You need to get her out of here." Stiles said to Parrish, glancing over his shoulder's to the stairs. "My dad is most likely headed up here. You and him need to get Lydia and Maggie to the hospital. Now!"

 

Parrish looked torn, his eyes shifting from the battle behind him down to Lydia, back and forth again and again until finally he nodded and pulled Lydia into his arms, standing. "You should come too."

 

Stiles shook his head instantly, not saying anything, but he didn't have to. Parrish knew how stubborn he was. The deputy looked like he would protest, but after a moment gave a stiff nod, and then with one last glance towards the rest of the pack, he was running for the steps.

 

Stiles really hoped that his dad would just go with Parrish. That he wouldn't fight him and come back up, because the last thing Stiles needed was his dad to be in danger.

 

Scott cried out suddenly and Stiles swung around to look, seeing with sickening clarity that the Slaugh had gained the upper hand yet again. Everyone except for Derek were on the floor, bleeding, tired, shocked. Stiles felt his heart clench at the sight. They were all there for him. To save him. They had all risked their lives for him. And Derek? He looked the worst out of all of them. Not a part of his body didn't seem to be covered in blood. It wasn't like the Slaugh hadn't taken any hits. Because it had. Black blood covered it's own body, as well as the pack from where it had brushed off on them during the struggle. But it was like the Slaugh's healing capability was  _instant_ , and the moment it was wounded, it was healed again in the blink of an eye. 

 

The Slaugh curled it's claws around Derek's neck then and began to squeeze, blood immediately bubbling up from it's razor grip and Stiles gasped, stumbling forwards. "Stop!" If the Slaugh squeezed any tighter it was going to cut Derek's head off.  The Slaugh's furious gaze me his own and it tightened it grip on Derek's neck with a hiss, and Stiles cried out when he saw Derek flinch as more blood soaked down his neck and into his shirt. "Please! I'm begging you..."

 

"None of this would have happened if you had went with me." The Slaugh drew out, venom in it's words. "Now all of your friends are going to die."

 

"I'll go with you! I swear I will! We can go now, okay? Just don't hurt them!"

 

Derek growled in the Slaugh's arms, but his glare was fixed on Stiles. "Don't you fucking dare!" He hissed out before the Slaugh tightened it's grip even further, and this time Derek couldn't hide the way his eyes widened in fear the the creature cut into him more deeply.

 

Stiles choked out, stumbling forwards and shaking his head. "NO no! Please. Please don't. Don't do it. I'll do anything I swear. I'll change. I'll be like you. We're supposed to be together forever, remember?" Stiles tried a hesitant step closer, trying to look calm, when he was really about to have a nervous break down. He cast a look to Derek and found the man watching him with wide, terrified eyes. But Stiles knew the wolf wasn't scared for himself. He was scared for Stiles. Scared for whatever Stiles was promising the Slaugh. And he was. If the Slaugh agreed to let them live, to leave them alone, then he was willing to pay the ultimate price. "If you promise not to hurt him and we leave  _right now_ I swear to you I won't fight you at all. I'll do whatever you want." He couldn't control the shiver that ran over his body at that thought, but forced himself to keep his gaze on the Slaugh's red, calculating eyes. 

 

"Stiles...don't do this. We'll find another way." Scott grunted out a few feet from him, on the ground, staring up at him with wide red eyes, still wolfed out. 

 

"No, Scotty. There is no other way." He looked down briefly at his best friend, feeling his eyes burn with tear's as the gravity of everything finally settled on him. This was the last time he would see Scott. He suddenly wanted to throw himself on him and cling tight, but forced himself away. He glared up at the Slaugh, taking another step forward. "Come on! Are we going or not?!"

 

"You're not going any damn where."

 

Stiles swung around with wide eyes to see his father approaching from behind him, his gun held up and pointed to Ryan. He felt his inside clench painfully and fear wash over him. "Dad no - you can't be here. You have to leave, now!"

 

""I'll be damned." John bit out, moving around Malia who was laying on the floor, breathing in sharp, hard breath's, clutching at her side. "I'm not letting this thing take you anywhere. I'll die before that happens."

 

The Slaugh looked at the Sheriff with an unimpressed, unthreatened gaze, forcefully tilting Derek's head to the side and staring down a moment, as if enthralled, at the sight of the wolf's red blood running down his neck and shoulder.

 

"Yeah and that's what's going to happen!" Stiles shouted. "What are you going to do, huh? Shoot it? Are you out of your freaking mind?!"

 

"Shut the hell up!" John screamed suddenly, jerking his glare to Stiles angrily. "You are my  _son_ , do you even get that? Do you honestly think I'm just going to leave you here?! Now close your damned mouth or I swear the next bullets going to be for you!"

 

Scott was off of the floor suddenly, leaping towards the Slaugh, his claws outstretched. The Slaugh tossed Derek aside and pierced Scott through the belly with it's razor claws, and Stiles cried out, falling to his knee's at the sight of his best friend hanging in the air, impaled. For a long moment time stood still, and then his dad was shooting, the bullet's meeting their target but having no real effect. The Slaugh tossed Scott aside like a rag doll and the next second was on the Sheriff, it's claws drawn back and then rushing forwards towards his wide open body. Stiles watched with growing horror, everything around him seeming in slow motion. The pack looked on desperately, to beaten and defeated to get to John in time. In that second, Stiles was sure of three things. One - his dad was going to die. Two - that Ryan would not stop there. He would go on to kill the rest of his friends and family out of pure spite, no matter what Stiles promised, and three - that if Stiles did not do something  _right then_ to stop it all, he would never forgive himself. 

 

His hand lifted on it's own, his palm curling around the small amulet on his necklace. In his mind it felt like he hesitated forever, after all how else would he have been able to look upon everyone's horror filled face, his eyes locking at last with Derek's. Stiles knew it could have only been a second, if even that in which he paused, soaking up the soft lines of Derek's face, his vibrant eyes that always seemed so hard, but could be filled with such gentleness. 

 

Deaton had told him what seemed like forever ago that if he were to ever use the necklace, it could in turn kill him. 

 

Suddenly that didn't seem like such a high stake; if it meant everyone else would be safe.

 

Stiles tightened his grip and broke the amulet from the cord, a shock wave of power bursting through the room immediately. His body bowed tight from the power of it, his eyes shooting wide as every cell in his body screamed in pain. He felt something surging through is mind, seeking out the darkness hidden there. Finding where he kept all his guilt and regret's. His darkest secret's, and then ripping them from him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter :(
> 
> ...i feel like i say that after every chapter lol :/


	54. The End (Or the Beginning)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The darkness within Stiles takes shape & the pack are left with facing the aftermath of his decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I REALLY wanted to give a HUGE thank you for all the kudos/comments I've gotten on this story. It was actually my first story on the site and my 1st Sterek story as well, so it makes me feel good that you liked it as much as you do. If it weren't for your words of encouragement it wouldn't have happened. Seriously give yourself a pat on the back, cause you guys played a huge part in making this happen 
> 
> <3

Deaton had told Stiles that the amulet was a trigger to be pulled that would unleash all of the darkness within him. Every dark thought that swirled in his head. Every regret and every guilt. The things that Stiles kept most secret; the things that he most feared. So when he saw familiar inky black swirls of fog dancing in front of his vision, stretching and becoming full, forming two tall dark forms in front of him, he couldn't help the bitter laugh that spilled from his throat. Of course. Of fucking course. He went down on his knee's hard as all of the energy left his body in one hard tug, his head bobbing back and forth while he tried to keep his eyes open. The shock wave that had went through the room had sent everyone flinging in different directions, and Stiles tried to take stock of as many people as he could - though it was hard. Even now it felt like his body was still being drained, and while in a way it was similiar to how the Slaugh fed from souls, somehow Stiles didn't find himself frightened from it. If anything he felt a strange sense of...peace. Almost as if something was whispering deep inside that it was okay. That he could fall back, close his eyes, and rest. Normally, the thought would have horrified Stiles; but he found it comforting now, and allowed himself to give in, watching through slightly blurred vision as his friends stared in confused trepidation at the sudden appearance of the Oni.

 

Stiles fell back against the hard cement with a soft exhale, feeling the amulet still burning cold in his hand. It was a strange sensation, hot and cold all at once, and he was sure when(if) he managed to open his hand and drop the thing, he would have a circular scar in his palm.

 

The two Oni above him turned their masked gazes around the room slowly, before their head's simultaneously turned to look down at him, their eyes glowing bright yellow against the dark horror of the mask. Stiles stared up at them a moment, once again thinking how appropriate it was that the darkness within him would take their shape. The time in his life when he had been possessed by the Nogitsune and taken control of the Oni to kill was his ultimate guilt, and Stiles realized how ironic it was that now they would be used to protect. Once again he found his mouth twisting in a weak laugh. The Oni, who had been staring down at him, seemed to find what they had been looking for, and then the next moment their swords were drawn, flashes of bright steel against the darkness of the building. 

 

Stiles heard Scott gasp and saw the tension wash over him, the Alpha about to move and defend his pack, even though he was severely wounded. The Oni didn't even flick their gaze to him, instead lowering their heads and squaring their shoulders, moving steadily forward past Scott and Malia, who was staring up at them with wide eyes. Stiles heard the familiar screeching scream of the Slaugh and cringed, and then another battle broke out. He tried to roll over and pull himself up on his elbows to watch as the Oni fought Ryan, but his limbs felt numb, deadened, and he could barely move a finger. He felt arms come around him then, pulling him up and against a chest, and blinked up at Derek, frowning a moment at the look of absolute horror on the wolfs face. Why was he so afraid still? Didn't he know he was safe now? 

 

"What did you do?!" Derek gasped out, his hands coming up to touch Stiles face, searching his gaze desperately. " _Stiles what did you do?"_

 

Stiles tried to offer him a reassuring smile, but even his mouth felt numb, and it just stayed there slightly parted. The thought that he wasn't even going to be able to talk to Derek before he died hit him then, and Stiles felt tear's beginning to roll from his eyes down his temple and into his hair. No no no. He couldn't die like this. Not without telling Derek that he loved him. That he would always love him. 

 

Derek seemed to panic at the sight of his tears, shaking his head, eyes wide and mouth open. He squeezed Stiles limp hand. "No no no you're going to be fine. I'll take you to Deaton's. He'll know what to do." He was lifting Stiles even as John stumbled over to them. He was limping and had blood curling down from his hair onto his temple and neck, but otherwise he looked okay, and Stiles cried a little harder, relieved. 

 

"Stiles?! What's wrong with him? And what the hell are those things doing here again!" His father laid his hand on Stiles back, moving closer to Derek's body so he could look down at Stiles face, his eyes wide with worry. "Derek what the hell is going on?"

 

Derek stood, tossing Stiles around until the boy's chin rested on his shoulder. Stiles cringed at being jarred but did not protest. He couldn't, after all. He did manage to look up though, and saw the Oni still fighting with the Slaugh as the rest of his friends struggled to their feet, rushing away from the three fighting figures. Stiles looked on in a sort of awe, watching as the three black forms twisted and twirled, the way the Oni blocked every swipe of the Slaugh's razor like claws. That seemed to infuriate the Slaugh, and it raged, roaring at them with glowing red eyes, spittle flying from it's mouth. 

 

"We've got to get him to Deaton's now." Derek rushed out, already moving.

 

Stiles tried to tell him that it didn't matter. He could steadily feel his life force draining. It was going to be soon now. 

 

"Why?! Dammit Derek what the hell is going on?!" 

 

Stiles gave an inward cringe at his father's yell, because even as a human Stiles knew Derek had always been a little weary of his dad. Stiles didn't blame him. The man could be freaking fierce when he needed to be. 

 

"He used an amulet Deaton gave him to call forth the Oni and fight the Slaugh." 

 

Derek's explanation was spit out quickly, rushed, and the last thing Stiles saw before the step's blocked his vision of the fight was an Oni digging it's blade into the Slaugh. Stiles watched as the Slaugh shrieked in pain, black blood bursting out. As Derek ran down the steps, josting his body, Stiles realized that the Oni would kill the monster. That they were perhaps the only thing that could. Not them  _specifically_ , but more so what they stood for. It made sense. The only way to kill darkness, was _with_ darkness.  Stiles suddenly got a very strange sensation at the back of his mind. A sense of foretelling. Like maybe his life  _had_ been written already. That he had been traveling down an already paved road. Because, looking back, how much of a coincidence was it that Deaton have given him access to the one weapon that would be able to destroy the Slaugh? It just seemed... _more_. It wasn't like he thought Deaton was psychic or anything like that. But maybe there had been some unknown push that had made the Druid decide to offer the weapon to Stiles. 

 

If this was his fate, Stiles couldn't help but feel both relieved and cheated. He loved the fact that he was saving his friends, that his sacrifice would allow them to live, but at the same time....was it so selfish of him to feel a bit begrudgingly over that too? There were so many things he wanted to do still. Things he wanted to see. And he would never have the chance. It was enough to make him cry, and he did. 

 

"Okay and apparently they're on our side now?" The Sheriff's words brought Stiles back to reality, and he managed to catch glimpses of his pack following closely with each bob of his head against Derek's shoulder, their eyes on him, confused and worried. Of course they would be worried. Stiles had never told them about the amulet and what it did. 

 

He felt a painful flinch within his heart then. Would they blame Derek for his death? Because he had known all along. He had been there with Stiles when Deaton had given it to him. 

 

"Why does he look like that?" Scott spoke up close to him, his voice breaking. "Like he's...."

 

"Dying." Malia breathed out when Scott didn't finish the sentence.

 

"Okay, that's enough. Stop!"

 

Derek came to a stop, turning to look at John. The wolf's brows were pinched close together in panic, his eyes conflicted. He looked from John to the rest of the pack, noticing how they all were heavily beaten, hardly even able to stand. And now that he was standing still, Derek realized how exhausted he was. How the hell he was managing to hold Stiles he didn't know. His entire body screamed and his neck was still bleeding, he could feel the hot blood running in deep waves and he was sure if he didn't sit down soon he was going to pass out. But he couldn't. Not until he got Stiles to Deaton. The fact that he was even having to stand there and talk was driving him fucking insane. They didn't have time for this. But he knew that they deserved some type of explanation, however brief he planned to make it. Especially John. "Week's ago Deaton gave Stiles weapon's to use against the Slaugh. He channeled the darkness inside of Stiles into an amulet. Stiles used it."

 

"That explains the Oni then. So what's wrong with him?" Scott asked through deep breaths, holding his side.

 

"Deaton told Stiles that if he ever used the amulet...that it could kill at him." At the collective look's of horror Derek ground his teeth together tightly. "Which is why we need to get him to the clinic,  _now."_

 

At John's silent, wide eyed nod Derek twisted around and headed down the hall, running through the room's until he was on the familiar path to the entrance. Just as he spotted the double doors, though, the air shimmered across from them and he stumbled to a halt, watching with wide eyes as the Slaugh appeared. He stood stupidly a moment, his stomach dropping to the floor. Had the Oni failed? Was the Slaugh  _actually_ undefeatable??? 

 

The Slaugh jerked it's glowing red eyes to Derek - or more so Derek holding Stiles, and crouched it's body with a piercing shriek before attacking. 

 

Derek gasped and tried to twist away, but he was so tired and his body felt like lead; Stiles weight not helping, and before he could stop himself he went tumbling down. He tried to twist his body in a way that Stiles wouldn't get hurt in the fall, wrapping his arms protectively around the boy. He heard gun shot's above him and John screaming out obscenities before the man grunted loudly and then Derek heard a crash somewhere far to his left, and figured the Slaugh must have thrown him aside in it's path to Derek. Realizing that Stiles back was open Derek swore and flipped them around until Stiles was lying under him, the boy's wide whiskey colored eyes looking over Derek's shoulder. Derek felt razor talons slash across his back and roared in pain. Scott and the other's rushed to try and pull the Slaugh away, but it tossed them aside just as easily as it had done John. Derek laid there, his body over Stiles as his back was ripped open again and again. He did not look away from Stiles eye's though. Not once. And he did not move. He would die here, lying over Stiles, protecting him. He felt as his eyes grew wet, tear's forming and spilling down onto Stiles face. The boy blinked as they hit him, his eyes eyes watering again, running down into his hair. Derek whimpered at the sight, finally closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Stiles, and even though the Slaugh was slashing into him, deeper and deeper each time, for a moment it was like only the two of them existed. He no longer felt pain, only the soft, warm body of his mate underneath him. It was the first time he had acknowledge it, that Stiles was his mate. And it made him cry a little harder, because he wished he had said it sooner. Wished he had said so many things sooner. He felt Stiles tremble underneath him and lifted a shaking hand to touch the boy's pale cheek, leaving blood in it's wake. 

 

He pressed his lips gently against Stiles, mingling their breath's together until it seemed they shared the same air. "I love you." He choked out, brushing his thumb back and forth across his cheek. He felt Stiles trembling increase and realized that he was sobbing silently, and it made his heart clench. 

 

He was prepared to die right then. To close his eyes and rest his head against Stiles shoulder, and he would have, had the Slaugh suddenly not been jerked off of him. He grunted, trying to turn around and managed to roll over to his side beside Stiles, and looked behind him to see the Oni had appeared again. Derek watched as the Slaugh dug his talons into one of their shoulders through the black leather armor. The Oni grabbed onto the creatures spidery wrist and held it there as the other demon warrior moved gracefully forward and with a twirl of it's blade severed the Slaugh's appendage off at the forearm. Black blood immediately spurted everywhere, and the Slaugh stumbled backwards with a wail. The other Oni jerked the creatures cut off taloned hand from it's shoulder and tossed it aside before advancing with it's twin. With only one arm the Slaugh was no where near a match for them. It fought them off as best as it could, dragging claws down their bodies, and shrieking when it's attack's did nothing, only pulling wisps of black smoke from their bodies, so familiar to the Slaugh's own first form. 

 

As Derek watches the Slaugh struggle a failing battle, he realizes that there really was no way he or any of them would have been able to defeat the creature. It was much too strong. Stronger than anything they had ever come across. Perhaps the Oni - with their incorporeal form - were the only beings that could. They were virtually untouchable. After all it wasn't like the Slaugh had a silver bullet or arrow to use against them. 

 

Derek looked behind the three fighting forms to the double door's beyond and the large windows on them. He could see that the sky was growing lighter, no longer pitch dark, and knew that morning was coming. If the Oni were going to kill the Slaugh, they would have to do it before then, when they would fade away. Watching the fight, though, it was clear that they would. Derek couldn't pull his gaze away. He had always found there was something so deadly beautiful about the Oni, but now, laying there seeing them fight the Pack's enemy, he found himself even more awed at their smooth, coordinated grace, and knew that everyone else couldn't pull their eyes away either. 

 

" _Der...."_

 

Derek jerked his head down with wide eyes, staring down at Stiles. The boy's eyes were locked with his, and there was something so desperate in them that it made his blood run cold. The look was the same as the one he had wore in Mexico, when he had been bleeding out, his body screaming in pain and blood rushing from between his lips. When he had called out to Stiles it had been on his face, and Derek felt panic bloom in him when he realized what that meant. Stiles thought he was about to die. Derek tried to pull himself up, leaning over Stiles, shaking his head sluggishly. "No, hey it's alright. We're going to be fine. Just....just relax, okay?" His voice trembled and thankfully Stiles couldn't hear the uptick in his heart at his own lie. Because he didn't know if they were going to be alright. 

 

Stiles looked like he was struggling again, his dry lips twitching, trying to form words and his tear's growing harder in frustration. When all that came past his lips was a whisper Stiles let out a soft, agonized cry and closed his eyes, his chest shaking in sadness. The sight of him so broken down killed Derek, and he couldn't stop his tears from flowing, his lips twisted back. 

 

"No. We're going to be okay." He drew out weakly, grabbing onto Stiles hand with his own, squeezing it tight. "Please Stiles....just...don't..."

 

Stiles whimpered softly, blinking rapidly past his tears, trying to see Derek clearly. 

 

Behind him he heard the Slaugh scream again and jerked around to see one of the Oni standing behind the creature, it's sword sticking out through the chest of the Slaugh, and as Derek watched, the other Oni advance with a graceful spin, it's sword slashing out and in one smooth motion the Slaugh's head was severed from it's shoulders, falling lifelessly to the ground, and the creatures body went with it seconds later. Derek felt both horror and relief wash over him, and looked away from the empty red eyes staring back at him on the floor, his eyes lifting to the Oni. They were both slashing their swords through the air, ridding the blades of black blood before re-sheathing them with practiced ease. The room grew eerily quiet, no one daring to speak, unsure of what would happen next.

 

The demon's stood there, cocking their head's slightly before their masked faces turned and looked at Derek. No - Derek realized, they were looking at Stiles. And then, a second later, they shimmered away in a billow of black smoke, as if they had never existed. Ryan turned to stare back at the Slaugh's body, his breath catching when he saw the limbs start to twist and reform, until smooth human skin appeared, and soon Derek found himself staring at Ryan's face, his eyes wide open and lifeless. A shiver went down his spine, and he was about to turn his head away, but then, shockingly, the body began to shift once more. To  _melt_ away into black ooze, spilling across the floor, wiping away all trace of what it had once been.

 

Suddenly fire surged against his chest. Hissing Derek jerked away from Stiles and pawed at this shirt, ripping it away and watching with wide eyes as the sigil on his chest glowed brightly red, almost vibrating, and then after a moment it began to fade. A cry of denial left him, and he looked to Stiles, his breath catching in his throat when he saw that the boy's sigil was doing the same. He then noticed that Stiles chest wasn't moving. Gasping Derek looked up at his face and found the boys eyes closed, his head tilted slightly to the side and his mouth open, lax. His heart stilled in his chest and his stomach twisted painfully. "Stiles?" Derek squeezed his hand, noticing for the first time that it was completely slack against is own. "No no no..." Shaking his head he grabbed the boy's face, turning it towards him. "Stiles!" His skin felt cold under his hands. More cold than it should. It felt lifeless. He pulled his body upwards more to a crouch, wrapping a hand around Stiles shoulder and shaking hard, Derek's face contorted a painful mixture of anger and despair. He could feel it slipping away; their bond. It was akin to Derek's very soul being jerked from his body and it left him feeling so bereft and empty that he couldn't breathe. 

 

John was dropping at Stiles side then, grabbing his son by his tattered shirt and shaking him roughly, screaming out his name even when his eyes ran with tear's. Derek fell back on his ass with wide eyes, his arms hanging lifelessly at his side as he stared at Stiles, watching the way his head bobbed back and forth with each hard shake John dealt his body. He was vaguely aware of Scott and the rest of the Pack falling down to circle Stiles, and a distant, wailing shriek echo'd through the room, and Derek knew from wherever Lydia was, she was screaming. After a moment the sound faded, and Derek wasn't sure if it was because Lydia had stopped screaming, or he had become numb to the world. When he realized that the rest of the pack's mouth's were moving, their expressions pulled taunt but no sound coming out, he realized that it was him. That he was fading away from everything, drifting in some dark empty place where there was only coldness and death. A place that he knew all to well, that he had lived in more times than once during his life. Stiles had pulled him from the brink before, but now he toppled head first into the darkness, falling into the empty void. And he knew he would never walk away from it again.

 

Staring down at Stiles lifeless body, Derek couldn't help but think ' _my fault_ ' _._

 

 

 

**********************************************

 

The days passed in a never ending haze for all of the pack. Too shell shocked and numb to truly be a part of the world. Everyone simply... _existed_. Three days after Stiles death the funeral was held. It was a warm, sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky, and a soft, constant breeze kept the large number of black clad people cool. There was just something so... _pleasant_ about the day that it seemed surreal, even more so than normal, and people would talk about that later. About how the boy that had annoyed many but had been loved by equally as much had been buried on a day that was perfect, almost as if some higher power was offering it's condolences. Trying to offer something not so desolate to lessen the pain. And while it may have successfully helped ease some of the funeral parties sorrow, for the Pack it was a spiteful mockery. 

 

Everyone was a mess. And they all took turns speaking around Stiles coffin, pouring out their hearts when when their voices seemed distant, confused, like they couldn't understand how their lives had come to this. Derek stood stiffly beside Scott, watching as Lydia walked down from the small podium, bag's under her eyes and face pale. It was a look that they all shared. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and looked like it hadn't been brushed in days, and she had no make up on. What was the point, she would just cry it off anyways. Derek felt her come stand beside him, leaning against his arm and he did not push her away. It wasn't like he particularly needed the touch, though. If anything he was completely indifferent towards it. He just...he didn't care anymore. He heard Kira sniffle as she buried her face in Scott's neck, her small hands clenched tight on his jack, while Scott's crooked jaw clenched painfully tight as the boy tried not to break down. That night Stiles had died he had been a wreck, sobbing uncontrollably and holding onto Stiles body, refusing to let anyone tear him away, flashing his Alpha eyes to anyone who tried. Derek had looked on with a sense of detachment, more numb than he had ever been. It had taken nearly an hour for John to pull Scott away from Stiles so the ambulance could put him on the stretcher and carry him away. 

 

There were many parts of that night that Derek couldn't remember because he had retreated so often within himself. But he could remember Scott breaking away from John to chase after the EMT's, snarling at them angrily. It had taken all of his pack members to drag him back. Derek thought he vaguely remembered a pale haired man with the group, most likely a ME. He had been watching them all strangely, his eyes a little too emotional for a man who didn't know them. But maybe that had all been in Derek's head. 

 

John was talking now, his words stumbling on one another and his voice breaking as he told everyone that Stiles birthday had only been days away. Derek hadn't even realized it. He felt more guilt wash over him, settling higher on the towering scale within him. He stood there, his mind going in and out, retreating to the darkness when it felt like it was going to be too much. That he couldn't take it. But when John turned to him and held out his shaking hand, asking him to come up and speak, he felt clarity slam into him and was jarred from it. He blinked up at John with wide eyes. He wanted  _him_ to speak? To talk about Stiles and what he had meant to him? To them all? He felt a wave of fear and pressure crash over him, and was moving to stumble backwards when a hand curled tightly over his bicep. Derek looked down at Lydia with wide eyes, his mouth open. 

 

"Please." Lydia whispered up at him, fresh tear's streaking down her cheek. "He loved you Derek...he would have wanted you to...." She drew off, her body shaking slightly from sobs and turned to press herself again Parrish, who wrapped his arms around her tight. 

 

Derek stared down at the two of them a moment before looking at Scott, licking his lips. The Alpha nodded up at him gravely, and Derek turned his gaze back to John, finding the man still standing there patiently waiting, hand outstretched. As if with a will of their own he found his feet carrying him forward, aware of the eyes of everyone, and trying not to flinch under the weight. When he was in front of John the man looked at him a moment before he surprisingly reached out a curled a hand on the nape of his neck, and Derek's eyes widened slightly from it, feeling John's other hand settle on his shoulder.

 

"It's okay." John said softly, even as his voice trembled. "Just...just be honest. That's all he would have wanted."

 

And with that he was moving past him, stepping back into the heavy crowd of silent onlookers. Derek stared down at his feet a moment, John's words settling over him, before moving slowly to stand at the small podium. He licked dry lips and stared down at the square of wood a long moment before finally looking up. The various eyes watching him was overwhelming, and he choked, tensing and finding himself speechless for a long while. It wasn't until his eyes met John's again, and the older man gave a slight nod, that he felt himself relaxing slightly. If the man could stand in front of everyone and speak so honestly about his son, then Derek could as well.

 

He started to speak, and had to clear his throat immediately, not having used his voice in days. "I first met Stiles when he was trespassing on my land. I'd like to say that we were instant friends, but that's not true. I'm...not the friendliest of people. And Stiles has this annoying way of getting under your skin that drove me insane. Despite that, he never hesitated to stand up to me, and I think that's what made me first begin to realize there was something more to him. That he was more than some pale, skinny spaz who always stuck his head where it didn't belong. Over time I began to realize that I liked the constant bickering between us. It kind of brought this light to his eyes, made him seem more  _alive_ -" Derek drew off at the word, feeling his numbness quickly fading and being replaced by a profound sadness, and he swayed from it, feeling his eyes sting with tears for the first time since he had held Stiles body. He tried to will them away, because if he started crying...he just couldn't. 

 

"Somewhere in the time after our first meeting, Stiles became a friend, and if I'm being completely honest - the first one I'd had in a long time. I found myself eagerly waiting until we saw each other again. I was just always so secretly  _enamored_ with him. Anyone who knew him could tell that there was just something...special...about him. It was like he was filled with so much light that it couldn't help but spill through into his character. He was just so...so  _good_. And selfless-" Derek let out a choked sob, curling his hands into fist's on the podium as he struggled to not fall apart. " _I hated how selfless he was_. He always put other's first, never worrying about himself. He loved the idea of being able to help people and in the end it - it...."  _It got him killed._

 

Oh, god. He couldn't do this. Derek stumbled away from the podium, his eyes wide, lost. He brought a heavily shaking hand to his face, trying to wipe away blatant emotions and failing, feeling his tear's finally start to fall. The first touch of one against the skin of his cheek felt like a shock to his system, and he jerked hard, realizing that he was quickly spiraling downward and if he didn't get a hold of himself he was going to lose it right there in front of everyone. His eyes darted everywhere and he opened his mouth, trying to suck in air when it felt like his chest was being squeezed too tightly. Stiles was dead.  _Dead_. Derek would never be victim to his sarcastic quips again. Never see the way the light caught in his honey colored eyes or the soft curve of his lips when he smiled.  _And oh god, his laugh_. The way his whole body shook with his, his head tipped back and mouth wide open, unashamed.  _  
_

 

Derek didn't know his legs had given out on him until his knee's hit the soft grass, dampness soaking into his black slack's. He felt hands on him then, soft, gentle touches, and realized that the pack were around him, falling to their own knee's as they shared his pain. Derek felt strong arms wrap around him and vaguely smelled the soft scent of gun oil and spicy cologne, and realized that John was hugging him. For some reason that seemed to set off Derek's last trigger, and he sagged against the man, sobbing loudly, staring up at the sky as tear's rushed down his temples and into his hair.

 

He had never felt so bare, so raw.

 

And so lost. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**THE END**

 

 

 

 

 

So some people have been curious as to what Ryan's Slaugh form looked like. I have some photos that I decided to share :) The first is when he was his shadow form, and the second is when he had fully formed. Minus the creepy head protrusions lol 

[](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/shadowmonsta_zpsmvdobtmp.jpg.html)

[](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/shadowmonsta1_zpsgywzdook.jpg.html)

and then this was the sigil Stiles & Derek shared

[](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/druidic%20symbol_zps4wlxbefp.png.html)

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                                 **********************************************************

 

 

 

**PART TWO OF THE AWAKENING SERIES \- " _WORLD AT WAR"_**

 

**SYNOPSIS**

 

 

_Following Stiles' death, the Pack are left to mourn. Derek becomes a shell of who he once was, hardly ever coming out of his wolf form. Scott begins to second guess his role as Alpha, and John takes up drinking again,_

_finding solace at the bottom of a bottle.  It's not until Lydia tell's Derek that she can bring Stiles back that the wolf begin's to have hope for something better again. But when Stiles comes back, it's clear that he's now **more**._

_New powers emerge, powers that radiate's from Stiles - making him a powerful beacon to all things supernatural. Beacon Hills quickly becomes a war zone to those that would use Stiles power for their own, and it's up to the_

_Pack to keep him safe, while discovering new allies just around the corner._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[World At War Playlist](http://8tracks.com/ship_sailor4life/world-at-war-playlist?utm_medium=trax_embed) from [Ship_Sailor4life](http://8tracks.com/ship_sailor4life?utm_medium=trax_embed) on [8tracks Radio](http://8tracks.com?utm_medium=trax_embed).

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh this fucking KILLED ME
> 
> i hope you guy's liked the end/beginning. It was so hard killing Stiles but it had to be done :(
> 
> as for when the next part will be coming - it will most likely be in 15-20 days.
> 
> I'm going to take a short break to write something with lots and lots of fluff. lol cause honestly there's only so much angst I can take before going crazy. I love it to death but you have to be in a certain mind to write it, and my mind is desperately seeking out something cuddly right now :P
> 
> The short project I post will be no more than 10-15 chapters (determined face!) 
> 
> I'll give you a little preview now cause I luvs you guys :
> 
> Stiles is a writer of gay erotica whose work, according to his Editor (one miss Lydia Martin) has gotten dull and boring. Lydia suggest's that Stiles try to LIVE a little, gain some new juicy experiences that he can write about and bring the heat up again. Only problem is Stiles is a bit on the dorky side and not good with 'living a little'. After a whole slew of embarrassing situations brought on by his best(sometimes!) friend Scott, he's given some wise advice and decides to take a tropical paradise vacation. All's going good and well, and he's got a major crush on his super hot tour guide Danny. Yet it seem's like he can't stop bumping into Derek, who, as annoying and brooding as he seem's, also makes it quite clear he WANTS Stiles. As in...wants wants. With the two being brought together almost by fate, Stiles discover's that Derek is more than he seems....WAY more.


	55. Excerpt for World at War (pt 2 of the Awakening series)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just a little something to hold you guys over until the next part comes in a few more days :P

Derek tried. Really, he did. They could never say that he hadn't. The first few days following Stiles funeral the pack seemed to be unable to break away from one another. They were together constantly, no matter where the location. John, Melissa and Parrish had all taken personal leave from work, and Deaton had all but demanded Scott do the same. The school was still temporarily closed, so they hadn't had school to worry about. 

 

Everyone dealt with Stiles death differently. John had begun to drink again, but no one said anything about it; and Melissa tried to be there for the much as much as possible. Scott was going through bouts of intense highs and lows, one moment all red eyed and snarling at everyone, his beta's cowering in a corner, the next he was crying and begging their forgiveness. They always gave it. He and Kira seemed to have grown apart, though, and while they still clung to one another still, desperate for some sort of comfort, their touches were more empty...distant.

 

Lydia never stopped crying. Even when just sitting there silently, tears streamed down her face, it was as if it was a permanent state for her. Everyone could smell the guilt rolling off of her in waves, but no one bothered to try and reassure her, because they all shared that guilt. Parrish spent hours holding her, rocking her and whispering softly in her ears while she clung to him.

 

While Liam and Malia grieved, they had also grown even more close than before. As if they were the only two people in the world. But it was not a healthy closeness. It was a closeness in which they pushed all other's out, and often they smelled heavily of anger, pain, and sex. The few times that the pack did see the marks to prove it before they healed, no one said anything. It wasn't that they didn't care, they just had all grown so numb to anything but sorrow.

 

And still Derek tried. He tried to be there, even when he couldn't do anything. He tried to be a part of their grief, and he was. Profoundly so. And then, one day, it was just too much for him. He shifted into his wolf form and stayed that way. No one said anything about his change. No one attempted to coax him into coming back. 

 

Even Thor seemed to somehow know what had happened, and the dog often curled up beside Derek, whining softly, it's scent ripe with sadness. Normally Derek would have snapped at the creature, threatened it with a growl, but he didn't have it in him anymore. So he'd just lay there and let the beast take comfort, even if he felt none.

 

After a week the pack began to come to his loft less and less. They knew Derek was hurt, but they didn't know what to do with him. Derek guessed he could understand. And then eventually they stopped coming altogether. Except for Lydia and Parrish. They came at least twice a week, just sitting there on the couch or floor, running their hands through Derek's fur and doing nothing more than staring at the wall. Lydia began to bring food when she noticed Derek's wolf form growing slimmer. It was nothing more than raw steaks usually. She also started leaving his window open so he could go outside whenever he needed to. She had tried to take Thor with her one day, but the dog had refused to leave the loft, and after finally giving up she began to come every day then, making sure he was always fed and watered properly, and taking him out for walks. Strangely enough when Derek did leave the loft, Thor followed him, but the dog never ran off, just trotted after him and then followed him back home. 

 

Deaton showed his face a few times, but he never stayed long. Mainly because Derek always tried to attack him. He blamed the man for giving Stiles the amulet that had ultimately killed him, and Derek was pretty sure Scott and John did as well. 

 

As the days continued to bore on, Derek slowly began to lose himself, his mind regressing to that of more animal than man. He slowly began to lose sense of reasoning, until one day he couldn't even remember who Lydia and Parrish were, and after lowering his head and baring his teeth at them, growling threateningly, they had left the loft, eyes wide and fear and confusion rolling off of them in waves. Despite that, he somehow always remembered the source of his sadness. Always remembered warm honey colored eyes and a laughing face, lips turned upwards. And then suddenly those eyes would lose their light, growing dark and dead, and those lips would grow slack, pale and lifeless. Derek spent hours howling until his throat was raw, and then he would just whine.

 

And it went on that way for three weeks.

 

                                                                                                           *****************************************************************

 

 

The door to the loft opened suddenly, and Derek broke immediately from his sleep, his ears twitching slightly and his eyes opening. A familiar scent came to him. That of lilacs and sadness, and Derek knew who it was, even though he didn't  _know_. The human girl had come often in the past, but now he rarely saw her, and he had almost forgotten about her in her absence. Beside him the other beast shifted, wagging it's tail and standing to trot over to her, and Derek released a huff of indignation. The beast always acted like a pampered pet whenever she and the human male she was usually with were there. He watched as the girl bent and ran her hand through the other's fur, whispering gently in words he didn't understand, but he could make sense of her scent, at least, and the way it shifted slightly to fondness. He huffed again and shut his eyes, turning his head and trying to return to sleep.

 

Usually he would growl and snap at the girl, but today he felt more weak than usual, and it was almost too much to even move his head. It felt like all of the life was draining out of him. He released a small whine, wondering briefly if his time was coming to an end. Usually he and those like him would be able to sense something like that. To smell it within themselves. But this...what he felt...it was different. It wasn't death, but something that somehow seemed worse. However that made sense. In a way, Derek almost wished he would die. That way he wouldn't have to feel this constant aching every day. This void that was slowly but surly swallowing him whole. He knew why he was sad, he just didn't understand it. He didn't understand how the human male that he so often had in his head could make him feel so broken. Or why he longed for him. Derek couldn't remember the boy. Couldn't think of a single instant when they had actually met. Yet his face was in his mind none the less. A ghost of a past life, perhaps, one that still had a hold of him in this one. 

 

Derek had tried to hate the boy and the way he made him feel. He didn't like being so weak. So vulnerable. He spent hours raging at a time, seething and snapping at the other beast, clawing at the furniture in the room and ripping it to shreds with his teeth. Yet, in the end he would always collapse from exhaustion and just break off into miserable whines or broken howls. This was his life now.

 

He heard the soft pattering of feet approaching, and flicked his ears upwards, turning his head slightly to see the girl slowly approaching. She smelled nervous, scared, but something else was there in the mix. Something warm and almost desperate. It was hope, he realized. She felt hope. But for what he had no idea. There was no way in hell he would let her pet him like she did the other beast. Derek was no pet.

 

She was speaking again, saying one word over and over softly, looking deep into his eyes and though the word sounded familiar he couldn't quite get a grip of it, couldn't make sense of the strange sound. She stepped closer, only a few feet away from him, and Derek finally began to growl. Just a low rumble to let the human know that that was as far as she came. The girl froze instantly, her fear spiking. Behind her the lighter colored beast whined, shifting on it's feet uncomfortably and Derek turned his eyes to it, growling again. The beast immediately bared it's throat and stepped backwards.

 

The girl was talking again, this time her voice deeper, more sure, and Derek rose to his feet, only shaking slightly when she took another step forward. He peeled back his lips and growled, trying to tell her to not come any closer. Because, honestly, he didn't want to hurt her. Not really. But he would if he had to. She was saying that word again, that word that sparked something within his mind like a flicker of a candle flame, and once again he just couldn't understand it. The girl held her hand out, and Derek noticed it was only shaking slightly. He also noticed that her eyes were doing something. Water coming from them in deep rivers. It made no sense to him but the sadness that came with the change was so great that it was almost choking to his sensitive senses. He felt himself backing away, surprised at himself as fear crept into his belly. It wasn't the girl he was scared of, not really, just what she would do to him. What she would bring back. Those thoughts made no sense and only increased his frustration and confusion and he whined low, feeling as he collided with the corner of the wall. He yelped and made to run but suddenly the girl was there, grabbing a hold of him and surrounding him, her arms holding him tightly. Derek growled and twisted around, biting her hard on the arm. He heard her cry out and stiffen but she still didn't let him go. If anything she gripped him tighter, now all but screaming at him, and Derek felt something inside of him shifting, something pulling hard and twisting and he bit down harder on her arm in fear, the sharp tang of blood on his tongue. He could hear the other beast in the background barking, loud and shrill, and Derek's ear's hurt from the sound. 

 

" _Derek!_ "

 

The word slammed into him like a ton of bricks, and Derek jerked hard, his eyes shooting wide. He released the girls arm instantly, feeling as his body began to shake.

 

" _Derek!!"_

 

He knew it. He knew the word. It resonated deep within his soul and pulled at something buried deep within him, something frightening and devastating that he was not ready to face again. That word was laid heavy on him. Stretched him. Filled him to breaking. Demanded to be heard. He knew why, even though he wanted to deny it. But he couldn't. Not any more. The word  _was_ him. He was Derek. Images began to swarm his vision. Images of running on two legs instead of four. Of ten fingers and ten toes, and not paws. Of smooth skin with only a slight dusting of hair on his chest, arms and legs. And a thick crop atop his head. 

 

" _Derek...................Stiles............."_

 

The new word slammed into him even harder than the first, and Derek started to whine again, letting out fearful yips as the human male came to his mind. The one who had laughed so easily. The one who eyes used to look at him as none ever had before. Derek saw himself as he had once been, himself lying in a bed with the human boy, as the boy stroked his face with such tenderness and affection. He remembered standing outside on some dark street under a street light, the two of them yelling at each other in the rain. And then his memory went even further back. Derek saw the boy standing behind another. There were tears in his eyes and he was looking at Derek with such a lost expression that it killed him a little inside. There was a woman in the room with them, and Derek knew the woman had caused his pain and he had wanted to kill her, only stopping from doing so when the boy had called out his name. Memory after memory flooded Derek. Climbing in the boy's window at night time, watching him swing around with wide eyes in his computer chair, nearly falling backwards each time. He saw them together in a pool, the boy holding Derek up when he could not feel anything from the neck down. 

 

He saw himself pushing the boy against a door, grabbing onto his jacket and glaring down at him, watching the way the boys scared eyes kept flickering back and forth between his lips and his eyes. He saw a time in a police car, when Derek's own had done the same thing.

 

He went all the way to the beginning then, when he had laid eyes on the boy for the very first time. He had caught his scent in the woods before actually seeing him. Something so warm and alive. Something that had beckoned him in a way that he had not understood. He remembered how he had deliberately ignored the boy, instead looking and speaking to his friend, because if he looked at him he wasn't sure how he would have reacted. 

 

And then....then he remembered the boy dying. He remembered holding him in his arms, watching the light slowly leave his eyes, his face pale. He remembered the boy trying to speak, words that would have added up to something so profoundly beautiful, but terrible as well, because Derek had known he would never hear them from his lips again. 

 

Something burst to life inside of him, spreading from every nerve ending and vein, and Derek trembled hard as his body began to shift, and then whine from the intense pain of it. The transformation from beast to man had never been painful for him, but it was now, and before long his cries carried on a more gutted, human like quality, until he was screaming from it, panting harshly and slumped naked in Lydia's arms.

 

****CHAPTER TO BE CONTINUED IN 1ST INSTALLMENT OF WORLD AT WAR******

 

 

 

Also, I thought I'd give you guys a little sneak peak at something I've created for the 2nd part. I can't tell you everything, just that these three characters are going to play an important roll in the next part :P 

 

 

 

[ ](http://s176.photobucket.com/user/winter_parham/media/pizap.com14357772962071edited_zpsytlia9uy.jpg.html)

 


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